Cy Twombly's old art studio
On my way back from Florida were I cared for my sister during her long illness with cancer, I was able to make a short stay over in a beautiful town called Lexington Virginia. I was drained emotionally, spiritually and physically from a fierce battle to assist Erin in her crossover journey to get to heaven.
On my way back to the frigid North Country of Jefferson County New York, I needed a one day respite to restore my weary bones. I knew Lexington to be the place of Sally Mann’s birth and present life. She has always had my admiration as a photographic artist of immense energy and vision. The words skill and talent are thrown about with a great deal of carelessness in the world of art critics these days. They are much overrated. It is both a necessary and sufficient condition to be just two things, a person with vision, and one who can be ubiquitous. Put another way, do you see differently from others and can you produce? Those are the two requirements to being a great artist. Notice, I did not say a great rich artist.
Sally Mann and Cy Twombly are great artists who also were able to not worry about finances. Cy was also a native of Lexington and a personal friend of Sally Mann’s. He passed away in 2011. It was always easier to be a fan of Sally’s work versus Cy’s because her pieces had a sublime, dreamlike quality. Cy’s work invoked that “I did the same type work in kindergarten” statements from many of his viewers. It was not until I was able to see his work firsthand across the street from the Menil Collection at the Cy Twombly Gallery in Houston Texas that I became a true fan. As an abstract colorist who used paints, scribbles and words to craft enormous pieces that were in the size category of Clyfford Still’s; the viewer is left with no choice but to be awestruck. Clearly Cy is one of those artists that a person needs to see their works in real life to have a deep appreciation for.
Being and artist and bibliophile, I tried to find a book store in town before I even secured a place to lay my head. Before anything however I felt compelled to enter into one of the most historic places in town, the local church. It seemed only fitting to give thanks were thanks was due. The sign over the door upon leaving gave me a not so subtle reminder.
Without too much trouble I came upon The Bookery, a quaint little shop that had new and used books which was located on West Nelson Street. The owner Marysue Forrest was busy going through piles of new inventory. After she directed me to the art section I made the observation to her that she and I suffered from that same “Bookitis” malady that made us yearn for the bound pages. I let her know that I was in town because I wanted to see the place that Sally Mann lived. She mentioned to me that she had gone to school with the famous photographer and that she had signed copies of her selected works. No extra cost for the autograph she mentioned. Sally stops in here occasionally and makes sure her authored works also have her signature. I was delighted, how could I resist? I asked Marysue if she would mind signing the book along with Sally for she was the only person that I had ever met who knew the artist personally. She politely declined mentioning something about her signature reducing the long term value of the book. I correctly responded, “Not to me it wouldn’t”. Marysue was not familiar with my deep love for human legacies and the fact that she had a greatness that rivals Sally’s. Notoriety, fame and success does not elevate us above others, it only appears to do so. It was not my last visit to this endearing little book store. It was relatively small and had books “sky scrapered” all around but upon entering you felt at peace, you felt at home.
Upon leaving with my new purchases I was told that Cy Twombly’s former studio was just two doors down. The little shop front was nondescript yet charming store front did not seem like it could have been home to one of the world’s great painters. It was and also is the subject of Sally Mann’s photographic book Remembered Light.