Good Neighbors

The Yearling by Donald Lipski

“A bad neighbor is a misfortune, as much as a good one is a great blessing.”  Hesiod had it right and Denver listened.  The Denver Public Library and The Denver Art Museum sit proudly beside one another welcoming locals and tourists to partake.  Both are great spots for a little reading, a little looking, a little learning, a little solitude, a little thinking and an ‘end-of-the-day-latte-wrap-up’, followed by a stroll through the gift shop - a perfect day.  This ideal arrangement goes even further by blurring the lines between the institutions with large sculptures in the surrounding public plaza.  Who can resist over-sized, outdoor sculptures?  Not me - there is something magical about art that is so accessible and indestructible.  Kids also love the sculptures - what’s could be better than a giant, colorful climber that your parents actually want to stop and stare at?  Here’s a little tour of the art and artists you’ll find outside the library:

The Yearling by  Donald Lipski
According to Lipski, this 21 ft. red steel chair with a statue of a horse was actually rejected by the Manhattan elementary school that commissioned it.  Lipski’s intent was to get the children thinking, but the school board wanted no part of that.  They couldn’t get their minds around the work and asked him to remove the horse on the seat.  He declined, saying, “It just lost all its magic.” The rejected red chair sat in Central Park for a year before arriving at the Denver Library in 1998.  The sculpture was donated to the city by an organization called “Nuts, Bolts and Thingamajigs”,  The Foundation of the Fabricators and Manufacturers Association.  Their mission is to inspire the next generation of manufacturers, inventors and entrepreneurs “one tinkerer at a time” and to attract young people to careers that require hands-on skills.  I can just imagine an ambitious kid attempting to weld a giant coffee table in their bedroom....

Lao Tzu by Mark di Suvero
Because two giant steel sculpture from N.Y. are better than one, the Denver Library has another large, bright orange, steel sculpture.  Actually Lao Tzu arrived on the scene first and was also purchased by the NBT, the library and additional donors for the plaza between the library and the museum.  Mark di Suvero created this work in his Long Island studio and it was also trucked across the country.  The sculpture is named Lao Tzu after the Chinese monk and philosopher from the 6th Century (I had a little trouble with the resemblance...) and it was painted orange to provide the greatest contrast against the bright blue Colorado sky.  Di Suvero is a renowed American sculpture who has won the Heinz Award for Arts and Humanities for his “sweeping contributions to America’s cultural landscape through a daring body of sculpture and an enduring commitment to broaden public venues for the visual arts."  

Public art is a gift to any city.  It’s existence humanizes urban landscapes and stimulates the imagination of it’s viewers.  Denver (along with many other cities) actually has a Public Art Program that mandates any project over $1 million set aside 1% for the creation and installation of public art.  This policy has led to 150 new works of art during the last 20 years.  Take a free guided tour of Denver’s public art or a self-guided ‘phonecast’ that includes maps and interviews with the artists - just make sure you get a designated driver first!

Morgan's Monument

Our hero, Andrew Carnegie, lived by the adage, “the man who dies rich dies disgraced”.  The final twenty years of his life were dedicated to giving away his vast fortune and we reap the benefits of his generosity daily in thousands of communities around the world that used his great fortunes to build libraries (see entries: Mr. Library and Hometown Hero).  At the time of his death he had given away $350 million.  The foundations and organizations he set up 100 years ago continue to ‘do good’ in the world.
J.P. Morgan lived by a different philosophy altogether.  He was all in favor of conspicuous consumption and seemed to be living by the motto “he who dies with the most toys wins”.  In a New York Times article from 1907 he makes it clear that retirement from business at the age of 70 would equate to a death sentence.  And although he did make some sizable donations to organization he felt were deserving, he was quite happy to spend his fortune feeding his own passions.  
When he died in 1913 he left his estate, worth $68 million (about a billion and half in today’s dollars), to his son.  His art collection alone was estimated at $50 million.  But, as fate would have it, he ended up creating a fantastic library legacy of his own; the Morgan Library in NYC.  
Mr. Morgan had his library built by the famous architect Charles McKim in 1902, next door to his brownstone on Madison Avenue and 36th Street.  Essentially it was a place for him to bring all the books, artwork, sculptures and object d’art that he had collected throughout Europe to one central location.  He wanted to create a majestic space that would highlight the great masterpieces he had accumulated but he insisted that the interior be intimate so he could enjoy the splendor and glory of his collections.  Let me just say that while I’m sure there were millions of things J.P. Morgan could have done with his money in 1902, this library is truly a temple that will take your breath away.  
If life is preventing you from visiting in person, check out the slide show and guided tour at the New York Times and prepare to drool, a lot.    Christoper Gray takes us inside Mr. Morgan’s Renaissance Library and explains that in these lavish rooms J.P. Morgan enjoyed his treasures as well as daily cigars and games of solitaire.  He tells the amazing story of the near financial disaster of 1907 when Morgan locked a room full of prominent men in the library until they pledged to participate in a bail out (where was he a few years back?)
The current library and museum, a city block of interconnected buildings, courtyards and pavilions, has just gone through a $4.5 million restoration that cleaned away a century of grime and replaced the red damask wall covering in the study.  It’s hard to decide which room is more perfect, they are all serene, beautiful and intimate.  If it were my library I don’t think I would have ever come out.  It is a shame that Morgan was only able to enjoy his oasis for 7 years but I, for one, am so thankful that his son, J.P. Morgan Jr., had the foresight to preserve and share (for the admission fee of $15) this fitting temple with the world.

photo of The Morgan from the New York Diary Star

Even thought Carnegie and Morgan didn’t always see eye to eye when it came to ideology, they were both shrewd business men.  When Carnegie was 65 he sold his steel company to J.P. Morgan for $468 million.  The Carnegie Institution reports that Carnegie said, Now, Pierpont, I'm the happiest man in the world. I have unloaded this burden on your back, and I'm off to Europe to play."  And then, instead of playing, he went to work spreading libraries around the world and left Morgan to build one right in his own backyard.

A Scene from Sendak

from the Rosenbach Museum

I have already confessed to having a notoriously bad memory, so it won’t surprise you to know that I don’t remember the names of my elementary school teachers, can’t bring to mind what I did on family vacations and have trouble recalling old addresses.  I do remember, with frightening clarity, all the lyrics from the score of ‘Really Rosie’, a musical, and TV special,  written in 1975 by Maurice Sendak (story and lyrics) and Carole King (music) - with a pair like that it would be hard to go wrong.   The musical features the indomitable Rosie and the stories came from Sendak’s books set entitled the ‘Nutshell Library’.
My favorite songs from the album are ‘Chicken Soup with Rice’ and ‘Pierre’.  If you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing ‘Pierre’ you must take a minute to listen, I promise it will bring you a little joy and remind you to care (especially about important things like the library).  Maurice Sendak knows the heart and souls of kids...he captures their exuberance, determination and frustration and mixes them with whimsy before reflecting it back to us in stories, illustrations, movies, and now, a mural.
The mural is a revelation, even to Sendak fans.  It was made public when the announcement came that it would be moved from a 13th floor apartment in N.Y.C to the Rosenbach Museum and Library in Philadelphia (more on the Rosenbach tomorrow).  Apparently, Sendak painted the mural on the wall of his friend’s apartment in 1961 when he was 33 years old.  The wall was in the room of Nina and Larry Chertoff, two very lucky children that grew up with a happy gang of Sendak’s characters marching across their bedroom.  I saw several old friends in the parade participants... Jennie leads the way, she would become Max’s intended victim in Where the Wild Thing Are, published two years later in 1963.  Rosie follows along with Little Bear (from Elsie Minarik’s lovely stories) and I wonder if the boy and the lion in the parade were precursors to Pierre (published in 1962).  The lucky “kids” are now in their 50s and donated the mural, saving it for posterity, to the Rosenbach in their parent’s honor.  Now we are all lucky enough to enjoy the mural and to remember the magic that Maurice Sendak dispensed.