Ken Kiff By Andrew Lambirth
Norbert Lynton (foreward)John McLean (epilogue)
February 2015
So, I go to the Marlborough to meet one of the directors, John Erle-Drax. He walks into the room preceded by his hair. He's been an excellent help and I really enjoy his company. Direct, blunt, cheerful. Quizzes me about some recent acupuncture research on lower back pain (my day job). We are in the downstairs room at the Marlborough where we are about to meet Andrew Lambirth who'll be writing the catalogue for dad's next exhibition.
The room, a kind of showroom I guess, is large, well lit and has several of dad's paintings on stands for us to look at. It also has a massive Anselm Kiefer on the side wall. I'm a little nervous so I find myself making a comment to John about the Kiefer not being all that, when actually I think Keifer is pretty damned good. John slightly contradicts me but I can't then say 'well, actually yes, I agree with you' for fear of looking stupid/lame/sychophantic. So I say nothing. Damn!
Andrew arrives. We all chat. John leaves. Andrew and I chat some more. I am SUPER pleased he's writing the catalogue essay. I was going to say all sorts of nice things about him but actually he's just a bloody good writer.
Read his article on dad here.
No comments:
Post a Comment