Arts and Letters

My respect for Louise Nevelson grew with the years. There was something about her which was forthright. Her work reflected this. Not that I did not have reservations. I am sure she had hers. But I think we both understood that critical acceptance was not essential; more important was our freedom to go our own way. She changed over the years in ways that were true to herself. I think this integrity is the reason her work retained its appeal even while remaining the same. I looked for surprises, she had courage.

We actually did not meet that often, neither did we search each other out. It was at the Institute and Academy that we met as often as anywhere else. Meeting and talking became a pleasure for me, brief as they were. Nothing she said was beside the point. But she did not hesitate or obscure her thoughts. Indeed, she seemed to become more outspoken with age. And she became a great lady. A lady who remains a sculptor is accomplishment enough. She became much more a work of art: her clothes, her eyelashes, her manner of speech were all distinctly creations. She had come a long way since I had first met her with Aron Ben Schmuel back around 1937. The creative input that went into making her personality puts her in my mind among the other great women I have known. They are in themselves self-made gifts to the world, self-portraits themselves—the theme of their art, more intimate, self-revealing, or embellishing as they wished.