Since 1903, members of Arts and Letters have delivered commemorative tributes to fellow members who have passed away. These remarks celebrate and reflect on the lives and work of the members being honored and acknowledge their contribution to the arts. A selection of tributes is now available in the digital archive below. As we prepared this archive, we were reminded that these tributes reflect their times, and, in some instances, include terminology and social and moral judgments we do not endorse.
For results outside of Tributes please use the general search or click here.
Like all the important artists, Richard Lindner invented and defined his lifetime. His painting of women and men are a synthesis of the art movements and the political changes of our time.
His work, seen as inevitable autobiography, shows clearly the passage from Europe to America: The SS officer becomes a Majorette, the Femme Fatale becomes a Football Player, and Political Cruelty becomes a touch of Erotic Sadism, this mixture of sinister and comical that marked our lives.
I met Richard in New York in 1945. After the gloom of Europe we delighted in the winter luminosity and the tropical summers. We had known New York from movies and photos in black and white and we were amazed by the fantastic colors of the city—the unexpected sight of the taxicabs colored in those days in the brilliant red, yellow gold, blue, and dark green of the Raffaello's Madonna dresses, the alarming sunsets, the neon lights, and the many derivations of Cubism disguised as architecture, girls, and neckties.
He looked more like a man of the eighteenth century— elegant and light, a whispering man with a memorable profile, the amused smile of the philosopher and that rare sight: an intelligent eye. He had interesting associations of ideas and reached unexpected conclusions that became obvious only after he noticed them.
Remembering Richard brings a wave of affection and tenderness.