Dear Reader,
On May 1st, I had the privilege of giving a talk
to the Book Club at the Center, a monthly meeting of readers
that has been active since 2012 and has hosted over one hundred
authors. Mary Kozub is the leader of this vibrant group, which
meets in the Burchfield Penney Art Center on the campus of SUNY
Buffalo State. It was a homecoming of sorts for me, because
sixty-one years ago, almost to the day, I graduated from there.
Despite the rainstorm providing special sound effects, it was
a great evening to talk about A Feast of Losses: Yetta Dine
and Her Son, Stanley Kunitz.
It was also a time to see family, meet my new great-niece,
and revisit another important part of my education, the Buffalo
AKG Art Museum, better known to me as the Albright-Knox Art
Gallery. Located across the street from Buffalo State with free
admission in those days, I spent more time there than at the
library. This museum opened in 1862 and has one of the finest
collections of late nineteenth and twentieth-century art in
the world. It sits on the edge of Frederick Law Olmsted’s
Delaware Park, so the expansive windows in the new addition
offer spectacular views. My brother, Norm Schifferle, was my
art partner for the day, and we parked and headed in.
When I know a museum well, return visits always include
a search for personal favorites. In this case, my goal was to
see Henri Matisse’s “La Musique.” I remember
lingering often in front of this painting and being mesmerized
by its vibrant colors and perfect composition. It is known that
Matisse struggled with the balance between the two figures,
who are seated in front of a low brick wall with a green-leafed
floral design that ties the whole piece together. He photographed
La Musique eighteen times to study and revise it, until he was
satisfied. The subject held me there – two women, one with
a guitar, the other with sheet music nearby. Perhaps she is
a singer. Women DOING something, instead of posing or holding
an infant! Another thing about the painting that delighted me
were the gorgeous green leaves that dominated upper-third of
the background. I assumed that Matisse had imagined them for
this painting. There couldn’t be anything like them actually
growing somewhere. In fact, when John and I visited Nice, France,
I stopped short when I saw a planting of them. It was a moment
of sublime recognition that brought me back to “La Musique”
and the Albright-Knox. “Hey, John,” I said, “these
are the leaves in Matisse’s painting, and all this time,
I thought he made them up!”
I was telling Norm about this when a young Japanese woman approached
us and asked, “Can I take your picture with your phone?”
Confused at first, I asked what she meant. She said, “I
saw you both talking about this painting.” I handed her
my phone, and she took this picture.
I asked her if she was an artist. She said, “No, I am a
violinist.”
I asked, “Where do you play?”
She answered, “In Philadelphia.”
This extraordinary exchange was over in moments, but I will
treasure it for a long, long time.
