In Memoriam: Frank Giorgini

It is with great sadness that I report on the recent death of a dear friend, the world-class ceramic artist and Udu drum maker Frank Giorgini, of Freehold, NY. He was 75 years old and had been undergoing treatment for cancer.

Frank and I first met in the mid-1980s when we both were teaching classes at the Harmanus Bleecker Center in Albany under the auspices of the Albany Institute of History & Art and the inimitable guidance of Monica Miller (also a wonderful artist). One of my favorite memories of that time was when we shared a two-person show at the Bleecker Center that featured Frank’s Udu drums and my photographs, all of it dusky and formal, a lovely pairing of sculpture and black-and-white pictures.

Frank was probably best known for his handmade and commercially manufactured clay pot drums, which are treasured by percussionists all over the world for their unique, earthy sounds and robust shapes, some exquisite examples of which are held in the permanent collection of musical instruments at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Frank used to proudly state that he was the only living person whose product was in that collection, though I suppose other living artists’ instruments may have been added after the fact. If not, then there are now none who can make that claim.

But Frank had equal impact in many other aspects of ceramic production, both in the commercial realm as a tile maker and in the fine art realm – though, in his case, the line between the two was fuzzy at best. Many will recognize his tile and mosaic installation in the Whitehall Street station of the Brooklyn BMT subway line, which was commissioned and installed in 2000. Entitled Passages, it traces the history of Manhattan backward in time using numerous airborne gulls as a unifying element (you can see many pictures of it here).

A detail from Passages

photo by Warren Sze

Nature and animals constantly featured in Frank’s personal work. Whether exploring the personas of humble blackbirds in his shimmering raku-fired tiles or adorning a decorative Udu with undulating lizards, he understood and celebrated these creatures as equals. As humans, we were fortunate that he also treated us with the same respect.

Most artists, no matter how talented, need something more in order to be successful – whether it’s a lucky break, an enthusiastic patron, or a trust fund. In Frank’s case, it was his congenial personality. Everyone liked Frank, and I can imagine no one who would have turned down an opportunity to work with him or support his vision.

One way he shared that vision was through teaching. He published books and instructional videos on tile making, and worked as an adjunct professor at Parsons design school in New York. Probably most important to Frank were the summer workshops he held at his Catskills home and studio for people of all ages and abilities who wanted to spend a little time in the country and learn how to build and fire an Udu drum.

Those two-weekend-long instructional experiences took place around Frank’s birthday, and always culminated in a grand potluck supper followed by a Bacchanalian bonfire, which naturally would be ringed by a large, happy throng of Udu-playing revelers. Though I never made an Udu drum, I stoked that fire nearly every year for decades, and danced around it with the best of them. Those Udu Fests will surely be among the most vivid – if slightly blurred – memories for many of Frank’s friends and fans.

Frank also was the proprietor, along with his partner, the great chef Ana Sporer, of Ruby’s Hotel, a delightful garden-to-table restaurant in Freehold that is expected to return to serving dinners after a period of mourning. As bartender and host at Ruby’s, Frank welcomed guests with his consistent good humor and, after dinner, he often shared a taste of his homemade limoncello, created using a recipe from his Italian ancestors, and as strong as it was sweet.

Above the restaurant was a gallery where, for many years, Frank mounted excellent shows of the best regional artists. The gallery was named in memory of another Frank, a close friend of the restaurant’s family and a supremely talented artist himself, who died way too young just before he was to have been the exhibition space’s inaugural director. I hope that the Broderick Gallery, too, will resume activities after a time, in loving memory of both Franks and their dedication to the joy of making and experiencing great art.

That and so much more remains as the legacy of one very fine person who also happened to be a brilliant artist, and a beloved friend to many.

The world was a better place with Frank Giorgini in it. May he rest in peace.

Note: If you’d like to get a taste of the amazing sound of the Udu drum, check out this extraordinary improvisation by Jacob Cole, a former workshop participant who posted it in Frank’s memory.

 

Ana and Frank at Ruby's

In Memoriam: Joel Chadabe

Joel Chadabe performs in the 1970s, using a very early PC as part of his equipment

On May 2, my dear friend Joel Chadabe died at home in Albany at the age of 82. Joel was a groundbreaking electronic musician and composer who taught for many years at the University at Albany, Bennington College and, more recently, New York University.

I first met Joel in 1987, when we each were renting studio space in a renovated factory in Albany's West Hill neighborhood, and we soon embarked on a friendship that featured many facets: Technical support, creative discussions and collaborations, countless homecooked meals, and an extended series of annual New Year's Eve and Fourth of July parties at the home he shared with Françoise and Benjamin (wife and son - for more detail, see the Times Union obituary from May 9, and the New York Times obituary, which came out on May 26).

Those parties always featured a core group of the Chadabes' friends, many of them associated with UAlbany, but also often included visitors from afar. It wasn't unusual for several languages to be spoken in those evenings, and for subjects from dance choreography to theoretical physics espoused upon by actual experts. The evenings inevitably concluded with Joel at the piano and those bold enough singing songs both familiar and exotic. It was an experience of a time nearly lost to my generation, when friendship, creativity, and love of life seemed enough to conquer the world.

Throughout, Joel worked, shuttling back and forth from college to college and from Albany to New York City, where he always had some big project going on, whether a concert series, publishing venture, or recording studio. In 1997, he published an unassuming but seminal paperback book on the history of electronic music, Electric Sound, which I enjoyed immensely, despite my nearly nonexistent musical education. Joel loved sharing his knowledge and, especially, his enthusiasm for everything creative, and that attitude shone throughout the book.

In later years, Joel and I saw less of each other. He was often in New York, the old New Year's crowd was diminishing, so the parties ended, and I got busy with my own working life away from the arts. But the connection remained, and the sadness I feel from his premature departure is acute.

Joel Chadabe was truly one of a kind, a generous soul full of childlike joy, and he will be greatly missed. May he rest in peace.

Some things never change: A recent photo of Chadabe at work with a MacBook.

In Memoriam: Duane Ivan Todman

A recent unfinished self-portrait by Duane Todman

It is with great sadness that I recount the death of Duane Ivan Todman, a 27-year-old multi-talented artist who was shot by an unknown assailant in Schenectady last Saturday.

Duane and I became acquainted two or three years ago when we met during a reception at Albany Center Gallery. He struck me immediately as an unusually serious person who was deeply thoughtful and very dedicated to his artistic pursuits. He showed an interest in having input from me, and we proceeded to talk from time to time about his pursuit of a career as a neo-Renaissance painter.

One of those talks took place in his studio at The Barn in Albany, where Duane also lived. Having lived in my own studio for many years when I was younger, this was a very comfortable experience, leavened with philosophical discussion and casual critique of his current work, which included portraits, still lifes, and figures.

Duane made great progress in his technique during the few years I knew him, and regularly told me he was seeking the right studio school in which to hone his skill. Apparently, he was about to realize that next step in his dream, as an obituary in today's Times Union reports that Duane had won a scholarship to the Academy of Realist Art Boston, and was set to go there next year.

Duane also was reported to have been working on a book, a screenplay, and musical recordings.

In our last email communications, which took place in March, Duane mentioned the book project and asked me if I'd be willing to read a first draft, to which I enthusiastically agreed; however, he hadn't yet followed up on that, so I never learned what the book was about.

At that time, he also sent me images of two paintings, one finished and one in progress, which I include with this post. As you can see, they are both excellent. Based on the strength of these paintings, I initiated an attempt to connect Duane with a New York City-area dealer of African American painters, but that had not yet borne fruit - perhaps stalled by the intensity of the pandemic in that area.

Now, with one brutal and senseless act, all that promise is gone, and we are left to grapple with the loss of this fine young man. One can only hope that Duane's killer is brought swiftly to justice, and that his family can temper their grief. May he forever rest in peace.

A recent figurative painting by Duane Todman

In Memoriam: Elena Pino

At Cala Piccola on the Mediterranean Sea, 1994

Elena Pino, a native and resident of Rome, Italy, died in Padua on May 23 after battling cancer for the past year. She would have turned 57 on July 1.

Elena (accent on the first syllable, please) was one of the great loves of my life and, more important, she was one of the finest people I have ever known. The world is greatly diminished by her premature departure.

Doing relief work with Hopeful Giving

An attorney, Elena worked for many years for the Italian State Attorney’s office (similar to our Attorney General) in Catania, Florence, and Rome. She loved to travel, was enamored of weekend sailing competitions and, in recent years, had become very active in relief efforts for Italian earthquake victims and refugees from the Middle East and Northern Africa.

Elena loved and supported the arts, especially in the form of classical music, literature, and visual art. As a youngster, she sang in a chorus. She also began skiing at a very young age, loved hiking and being by the sea at her place in Cala Piccola, and enjoyed all things beautiful, especially wild flowers.

More than anything, Elena loved - and was beloved by - people of all kinds. She never married or had children, but Elena was devoted to her nieces Carlotta and Benedetta, her nephew Tomasso, and Carlotta’s two little girls, all of whom survive her. She is also survived by her brother, Maurizio Pino, and his wife, Brunella, of Rome; and by her fiancé, Albertino Pastorini of Padua.

Elena was a co-founder with Albertino of the relief organization Hopeful Giving, which became the centerpiece of her existence in her final years. You can make a donation to Hopeful Giving in her memory and support relief efforts for struggling refugees in Europe by going to https://www.facebook.com/HopefulGivingIdomeni/.

Addio, Elenina.

The Horror in Orlando

Deeply saddened and disturbed by the heinous attack in Orlando this weekend that left so many people dead and wounded. My heartfelt sympathy and support go out to the victims and survivors, their families and friends, and everyone else touched by this senseless tragedy.

The arts would barely exist without the cultural and creative contributions of non-conforming people, whether LGBT or just differently thinking. The America we know to be great is a place of tolerance and diversity, not a place of hatred. Tolerance and openness are the backbone of artistic expression, and it is the soul of America to respect and protect freedom of expression. This is our highest priority as a nation, as a people, and as a world leader for more than two centuries.

May we find a way out of the dilemma that places the right to purchase firearms higher than the right to a reasonably safe and secure pursuit of happiness. May all victims of gun violence rest in peace.

Tidbits for 2016

Ellsworth Kelly in his studio in 2012 (photo stolen from the New York Times)

As 2016 yawns and stretches into existence, a few items on the local art scene have caught my attention:

1. The recent death at age 92 of Ellsworth Kelly. Almost universally regarded as a giant of 20th-century art, Kelly lived and worked in our region (Spencertown, Columbia County) for a great many years. I recall one encounter with the man, about 1984, when he stopped in to peruse my modest gallery on Washington Avenue in Albany. We knew he was a client of the hairstylist upstairs, but had never seen him. So, one day a middle-aged gentleman came in from the stairway area and looked around with what seemed to be a very practiced eye. I tried to engage him in conversation - no luck. Then I asked if we could place him on our mailing list (we did that with all visitors), but he demurred. When I more or less forced an introduction, he only gave one name: Kelly. I do recall that he did not seem impressed by what he saw, but neither did he seem disgusted. Personally, I love his work for its purity of form and color, and for its spirit of adventure. I also like the fact that Kelly was a supporter of local ventures, donating a print or two to be sold at Albany Institute fundraisers and employing local artists as assistants. He will be missed.

   

   an early Robert Mapplethorpe Polaroid self-portrait
   from the Jack Shear Collection

2. Jack Shear photography collection donated to the Tang Teaching Museum. Shear was Ellsworth Kelly's longtime partner, and on Feb. 6 the Tang will open an exhibition selected from 500 significant and historical photographs he recently donated. It's a very truncated who's-who of 20th-century photography (with a notably gay-centric twist) that is sure to draw a lot of viewers and perhaps a snippet of controversy. Remember when the political right wing went nuts because the NEA had supported an exhibition of Robert Mapplethorpe pictures in Philadelphia? This show will definitely make it clear we're over that.
   

   

   Mazing Cave - collage by Michael Oatman

3. This year The Hyde Collection will host the Annual Exhibition by Artists of the Mohawk-Hudson Region (popularly know as the Regional), and the judge will be a truly local artist for the first time in memory - Michael Oatman. Oatman, a professor at RPI, has shown regularly in prominent venues such as MASS MoCA and the Tang, as well as in New York City galleries for over a decade, so his credentials as a judge pass muster. Yet he also has regularly and recently participated in local juried shows such as the Regional and the Arts Center's Fence Show, which sets him apart from the typical Regional juror. This may bother some people, but I think it's appropriate - and a great choice of juror for this always intensely interesting local showcase.

   

   a photograph by Dan Burkholder

4. The Photography Regional, our other most closely watched local juried show, will be held much earlier than usual this year, as co-host Fulton Street Gallery in Troy has scheduling conflicts for the more usual late-springtime slot. According to a recent announcement from co-host The Photo Center of the Capital District in Troy, the show will open on Jan. 29 as a two-week salon with all entries hung at both locations; then the judge's pared-down selection will be presented more formally at Fulton Street beginning Feb 20. This year's judge is Dan Burkholder, a Palenville-based digital photographer known for lushly detailed and subtly colored imagery.
5. Beyond local: Oscar season is heating up, and I am struggling to catch all the films likely to gain lots of nominations. So far, the best film from 2015 that I've seen is Spotlight. I don't plan to catch the Star Wars film (sorry if you're a fan) - neither have I ever seen Titanic or Avatar, the other highest grossers of our time, so at least I am consistent. Am excited to see Carol as soon as possible, and have heard The Big Short is also very good, though I'm afraid it may give me unpleasant MBA-school flashbacks. More to come on the best films of 2015 in a later post ...

The movie Spotlight deserves special notice for the brilliant ensemble work of its cast.

Metroland - RIP?

Today marks the third Thursday without a Metroland since the alt weekly's office was seized by the New York State Department of Taxation and Finance for unpaid tax bills, and the feeling that it will never publish again is sinking in. (You can read the details in this Times Union article by Paul Grondahl.) Along with thousands of other individuals and hundreds of businesses, I miss it already.

My own connections to Metroland  are many and deep - it was founded 38 years ago by my niece Amy's other uncle, Peter Iselin, a very talented musician whose disco-inspired venture into publishing lasted a surprisingly long time. But Peter was never great at the business end of the deal, and thefre was visible evidence of that early on.

My own favorite recollection from the middle 1980s featured weekly sprints by staffers from the Metroland offices at 4 Central Avenue to cash their paychecks at the bank up the street before the account ran dry. I had a front-row seat to this competition from my shop window on Washington Avenue, and always enjoyed the show.

Things got a little better when Steve Leon took the helm. I freelanced for the paper under Steve in three stints totaling seven or eight years spread over three decades, initially as a photographer and then mainly as a writer, covering a variety of subjects including art (no surprise) and professional basketball (in the heyday of the Albany Patroons).

The rates for freelancers were pretty generous, and I always got paid, though it sometimes took a while. But then the pay lag began to stretch too far, so I asked for a meeting with Steve to clarify my need to get paid timely enough to cover my rent. That's when he showed me a ledger that revealed 120-day accounts payable for advertising that totaled a quarter of a million dollars. This was about 10 years ago - before the Great Recession stepped up and began wiping out newspapers all over the country.

After I quit the paper for the last time, I learned from other freelancers who had hung on that Metroland's debt to them had extended well beyond a year and had mounted into the thousands of dollars for many individuals. To me, this was unforgivable - the paper was essentially floating an interest-free loan on the backs of struggling journalists - yet I still eagerly grabbed and read it every week. Except, of course, in those weeks when it didn't get distributed because the delivery people were also fed up with waiting for their money.

So, when this month's news revealed the paper's tax problems with the state, I couldn't have been less surprised. Also, it rang another personal bell - I worked as a state tax collector from 2012-14. And, from that experience, I could guess that Metroland was buried in debt to the IRS as well, not to mention imaginable lines of other creditors. In another small twist for me, I also learned that another former employer of mine (The Daily Gazette, where I worked for 13 years as an editor) might have wanted to buy Metroland if the debts could have been cleared up.

Now it seems that one possibility is lost, and it's a loss for all of us. Metroland - thanks for a really great run.

Transition in Troy (Fence Show, Nadia Trinkala memorial show)

Mixed-media painting by Nadia Trinkala at Fulton Street Gallery

There are two major transitions under way in Troy’s arts institutions, with tearful departures and joyous events tied together. The local news has carried much coverage of the decision of the Arts Center of the Capital Region’s president, Amy Williams, to step down and enter the private sector – and her going-away party at the Arts Center on Thursday drew a huge crowd of friends who were happy to share their appreciation of Williams’ leadership over the decades and to wish her well. 

I was a willing part of that throng, as a close follower of the ACCR’s activities since my association with it in the early 1980s, when it was known as the Rensselaer County Council for the Arts and I was a member of its board of directors. At that time, the RCCA established a budget line for a paid Exhibits Coordinator (before that it was a volunteer position), and Williams was the first person hired to fill that post - part time, at $1,600 a year. She and the Arts Center have come a very long way since then, and I wish them both more great progress in the future.

The other big news in Troy is that the long-struggling Fulton Street Gallery is slated to close – but I have it from a reliable source that, instead, it will remain open under new management, with founding Director Colleen Skiff stepping away but continuing to present art under the Fulton Street name at the Uncle Sam Atrium.

This is exciting for many reasons, not least of which is that it means the current Fulton Street exhibition of work by (or inspired by) Nadia Trinkala will continue through the month of August (hours yet to be determined). It is an extraordinary exhibition of very high quality, made all the more touching by the fact of its protagonist’s suicide this spring (click here to see GV’s In Memoriam for Trinkala).

To anyone who may have doubted Trinkala’s credibility as an artist, this exhibition is a revelation. Comprising work in several media – photography, drawing, painting, jewelry, and more,  all of it sensitive, revealing, well-made, and consistent with a personal vision – the show does her memory justice. Trinkala’s dear friends Ray Felix and Robert Gullie made it happen, and they did an outstanding job of curation, preparation, and installation, producing a finely coherent whole that uses the Fulton Street location perfectly, and underscores the importance of keeping this ideal storefront space open as a gallery.

Meanwhile, back at the ACCR, the Fence Salon will come down on Saturday (July 17), to be replaced by the reconfigured Fence Select, which will open on July 29 (along with a solo show in the President’s Gallery by John Yost, a photographer and video artist who earned his MFA at UAlbany this spring). An annual juried show open to all artist members of the ACCR without an entry fee, the Fence Show’s 44-year history and broad appeal qualifies it in my estimation as “the other Regional,” and this year’s lineup fulfills that expectation with strong work in many media, selected by Hudson gallerist Carrie Haddad.

Viewing the hundreds of entries in the Salon, where those that were selected by Haddad are mixed in but designated by a paper marker, I found myself nodding in agreement over and over again. “Yes,” I found myself thinking, “she’s nailing it!” That is, until I saw a superb trio of color photographs by Chris DeMarco, and searched in vain for the “selected” card. Did Haddad fail to notice them amid the chaos of the salon? A staffer assured me that she had been thorough in her perusal – and that I was just one of a number of people who had asked the same thing on DeMarco’s behalf. So it goes with juried shows.

As it happens, the Fence Show had strangely few photography submissions this year. I have no way of knowing why that would be (it has attracted work from numerous fine photographers in the past), but I wonder if the overlap with the Photography Regional (at Albany Center Gallery through July 16) had an effect – or if the fact that Haddad judged that exhibition in Troy just last year (under Fulton Street’s auspices in the Atrium) made some photographers decide not to bother.

Aside from that, I think we can expect the installed Fence Select to be high quality and well representative of the art that this region has to offer. As for the true Regional, which recently opened at the Albany Institute of History & Art, watch this space for a review to run soon.

In Memoriam: Nadia "Trink" Trinkala

A shining light of the Capital Region art scene was extinguished on Thursday, April 8, when Nadia “Trink” Trinkala died suddenly on Peebles Island in Waterford. She was 44 years old.

Nadia (pronounced Nay-dee-ah) was known to all gallery-goers as a smiling free spirit with fantastic taste in clothes and an extremely generous personal warmth that touched all who came in contact with her. A recent Times Union article described Trinkala as “a painter and jewelry designer, [who] was part of the artistic resurgence of Troy when she opened a gallery, design and furniture business on River Street in 2004.”

But Trink’s story didn’t end or begin there. After a career as a travel agent, and then selling vintage furnishings in Los Angeles, Trink returned to the Capital Region in 1997; in 2002 she opened a gallery in Cohoes that had a big impact on that city and on the lives of some of the artists involved.

Co-directors Tom D’Ambrose and Bob Gullie helped put on a show at Trink Gallery, titled Visions and Vibrations: The Visual Art of Musicians, that included work by already famous creators such as George Frayne (Commander Cody) and Martin Benjamin, as well as kick-starting the visual-art careers of such musical talents as Michael Eck, Chip Fasciana, and Sergio Sericolo, all of whom have gone on to significant local and regional recognition.

According to D’Ambrose, the gallery’s grand opening drew 1,000 people and caused traffic to back up along Remsen Street. He adds: Nadia had the most beautiful creative spirit of anyone I have ever known ... . She inspired creativity in a countless number of people in upstate New York and New York City, where she had been living for the past few years in DUMBO. Nadia rocked every city she had a gallery in ... Cohoes, Troy, and Hudson. The last time I spoke to her she wanted me to join her in a project that I feel had the potential to bring her beautiful creative spirit to a global stage. She was committed to changing the world through art and music. The world has lost its brightest supernova … .

Later, Trink (the furniture store) moved to Troy, adding a gallery called CJ Gallery at Trink, which showed the work of Wren Panzella, Piper Brown, Christopher Murray and others. D’Ambrose relates a highlight of that experience, when Kid Rock bought two Panzella paintings from the gallery on Labor Day Weekend. (That’s a Panzella painting in the photo of Trink at the top of this post, and one of her own works at right, above.)

A later incarnation of the furniture store and gallery had a brief tenure in Hudson, after which, according to the Times Union obituary, “Nadia … turned her energies toward her natural calling in life - to help others through her compassion and creativity. She began working with the disabled at ARC, Center for Disability Services, Carriage House, Living Resources, and Questar. Her honest spirit, which saw the person as opposed to the disability, led her to reach people in remarkable ways.”

She went on to seek certification in the field of Creative Arts & Music Therapy at The New School in New York and had recently been researching a practical and philosophic framework around the idea of "The Human Citizen." A LinkedIn page listed her occupation as “community enhancement.” She will be greatly missed.

Note: A memorial service for Nadia Trinkala has been scheduled for 2 p.m. on Saturday, April 30, at Cohoes Music Hall. For more information on this and other initiatives in Trink's memory, click here.

In Memoriam: Bill Karpowicz

William Karpowicz in his studio, 1992 - photo by Ron Force

I was greatly saddened to learn of the death on March 29 of longtime Albany artist William "Bill" Karpowicz. For many years, until we were all thrown out in 2006, Bill occupied the studio opposite mine on the third floor of 116 North Lake Avenue (now a charter school).

There, Bill made painting after painting of "his angels," crediting them with keeping watch over him. When it was clear he'd have to leave the big studio and move into a much smaller space, Bill destroyed all the larger paintings he had accumulated. He didn't see any other option. I was very worried about Bill's state of mind at the time, but he seemed to accept the situation, and I think he eventually found a new rhythm in his smaller digs across the street from the old building.

Leukemia took his life - presumably, he's with the angels now.

David Brickman

Note: The following reminiscence was provided to Get Visual by Ed Atkeson.

I was with some art pals once and someone commented, "What about Karpowicz? Isn't he the real thing?" Sort of like, "Why isn't anyone paying attention? Why isn't he famous?"

Bill painted and painted. After a while he seemed to specialize almost exclusively in angels. He had a big easel with one foot of the easel carved into a cloven hoof, and there was always a painting on it, in progress. He also made model steamboats and remote control sailboats and hand-launch gliders. He had made an enormous fish sculpture that hung in the studio, but mostly paintings, oil paintings of angels.

Cathy and I have one of the angels. We showed Bill's work at our Firlefanz Gallery on Lark Street in July 2005 and he gave us one. The show was called "Angels and Other Spirits," and also included Bob Cartmell, Regina Capobianco, Sylvie Kantorovitz, and Gail Nadeau. (Here's a picture of the artist interview by Timothy Cahill - that's Tim on the left and Bill on the right.)

I think I first met Bill in Washington Park, it was so long ago. He was tossing hand-launch gliders. Balsawood, he'd made them himself. They were pretty remarkable: for one thing, the little planes worked so well that they would just fly away. Bill rigged them with a fuse that would trigger an airbrake after a few minutes - he would light the fuse with a cigarette and give the little plane a toss.

I'd never seen anything that flew so well. Everything was made so carefully. The wings had a perfect airfoil carved in. I was at his house and asked how he made them and there were no plans, he just made them. How? I was amazed. Then I noticed that he had about a dozen of them sticking out of a can on a shelf! He gave me one and I still have it.

Bill moved into my neighborhood for a while and I would drop in to see him. Once I noticed that he'd made a painting of a street person that we all knew and it looked exactly like him. I asked about it and it turned out that there had been no sitting, Bill had painted it from memory. I asked, "Bill, how can you do that?" He just shrugged and said, "painter's eye."

I remember a big Karpowicz painting on display at Cathy's 50th birthday party at Time and Space Limited in Hudson, 1994. The painting was some sort of ancient Sumerian imagery or something like that, 8 by 10 feet. Not for sale, it was much admired. Bill would put out xeroxed cartoons commenting on issues around the city and neighborhood, I still have a bunch, and we got some very unusual Christmas cards from him.

Bill was a good guy, a hard worker with a lot of talent and a big heart. He was the "real thing." He will be missed.

Ed Atkeson

Bill Karpowicz with paintings outside Firlefanz Gallery, 2005 - photo by Ed Atkeson

In Memoriam: John Yang

I was greatly saddened to learn recently of the death on Sept. 28 of New York City photographer John Yang, whose elegiac series of Thacher Park pictures was shown in a solo exhibition at the Albany Institute of History & Art in the fall of 2007.

Yang, who was a child when he came to the United States from China, worked as an architect before retiring in 1978 to devote himself fully to photographic art. His work, often made with custom-built cameras of unusual dimensions (examples include 11x14-inch format and 360-degree panoramic), had been exhibited regularly at Marcuse Pfeiffer Gallery and John Stevenson Gallery in New York, Stephen Daiter Gallery in Chicago, Robert Klein Gallery in Boston, and other premier venues; it is in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art and many other museums.

The Thacher Park photographs, made primarily along the Indian Ladder Trail during five years of concentrated effort, constituted his final body of work. A beautiful catalog of that cycle was published by the Albany Institute and is available in the shop at the museum. You can learn more about Yang and his work by clicking here to go to his website.

I had the good fortune of getting to know John personally after I wrote about his Indian Ladder series for Capital Region Chronogram; the last time we saw each other was at his house in August, where he showed me two albums of landscape photos that he thought might make a book, and I took the picture of him seen above. He was an extremely gracious and thoughtful man with an impeccable eye for subtle composition and consummate photographic technique. He will be greatly missed.

John Yang John Boyd Thacher State Park toned gelatin silver print