“For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never worn,” was a six-word short story composed by Ernest Hemingway to win a bet. I was reminded of it a few weeks ago when placing a classified ad to sell two bass guitars and an amplifier.
Since my husband, Phil, died of cancer almost five years ago, I had been confronted with the instruments during my weekly laundry chores. After a death, there is an immediate culling and distribution of the possessions of the deceased, but often a holding back of things that have more complicated emotional ties.
With a rich and varied body of work and now in her 60s, these are the days when Laurie Anderson has become, not necessarily an éminence grise, but certainly an artist in maturity and accepting its rewards.
With so many pre-eminent American artists associated with the East End, it is not surprising that the Whitney Museum of American Art would feature many of them in the inaugural exhibition for its new home in New York City’s meatpacking district opening to the public on Friday.