August 2, 1987
A devoted admirer of Georgia O'Keeffe for many years, I wanted to say how much I enjoyed David Johnston's story about O'Keeffe's relationship with Juan Hamilton, the young potter who is relinquishing his claim to the bulk of her estate ("Portrait of the Artist and the Young Man," July 23). Knowing little of the circumstances, I was prepared on the face of things to detest Hamilton. Here is a great lady of splendid pride and accomplishments, grown old and nearly blind, vulnerable to the blandishments of a man half a century younger.
March 30, 1989 |
"I think we're a hit!" declared Ilene Susan Fort, associate curator of American Art at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. She was referring to the impressive opening-night turnout for the Georgia O'Keeffe exhibition Tuesday, which drew about 2,000 O'Keeffe admirers into the Hammer galleries for the only West Coast showing of her work. Guests dressed in warm black tie and furs to brave the elements as they wandered through the open courtyard for the buffet dinner reception.
January 27, 2001 |
Alfred Stieglitz is best known these days as an early genius of photography and as the husband of Georgia O'Keeffe. But historians regard Stieglitz, who died more than 50 years ago, as far more than that. Through his galleries, publications and persuasive palaver, the New Jersey-born Stieglitz was also guru, muse, promoter and impresario of modern art in America.
July 13, 1991 |
In 1915, when painter Georgia O'Keeffe was a 28-year-old art teacher at a small college in South Carolina, she had a revelation. As she wrote many years later, "I was alone and singularly free, working on my own, unknown, (with) no one to satisfy but myself." And it suddenly struck her that "I had things in my head not like what I had been taught, not like what I had seen (but) shapes and ideas so familiar to me that it hadn't occurred to me to put them down.
April 25, 1999 |
"O'Keeffe is beautiful. She is beautiful in every respect," said her husband, Alfred Stieglitz. The remark expresses his appreciation not just for Georgia O'Keeffe's paintings (which Stieglitz was the first to show at his New York gallery in 1916) or the elegance of her face and form (captured in countless Stieglitz photos), but of her persona and the way she lived. Born in 1887, she came to prominence long before the feminist revolution, forged an uncommon relationship with her husband founded on their shared dedication to art, and later had the courage to let her work consume her, even though it meant doing without the warmth of human contact.
March 16, 1986 |
One death makes us think of others, so when Georgia O'Keeffe died 10 days ago one thought, rather loopily, of the German conceptual artist Joseph Beuys who had died of a heart attack last month. Aside from their coincidental demise, the two seem an unlikely pairing. He was relatively young at 64 and made an art still esoteric to the general mind. She loomed as an American landmark nearly a century old with a face as beautiful and awesome as eroded desert.
March 7, 1986 |
Georgia O'Keeffe, who externalized her search for the eternal verities into a series of crystalline paintings, making her America's undisputed empress of art, died Thursday. Miss O'Keeffe died at St. Vincent Hospital in Santa Fe, N.M., at 12:20 p.m., said hospital spokesman Charles Cullen. He had no other details on her death and said only that she had moved to Santa Fe last summer from her remote desert adobe home in Abiquiu.