Michael Morrissey recalls a brief but memorable meeting with Keith Haring
Remembering is a strange voyage. The mind, a dreamy traveller, retraces its steps to an event in ways elevatory. It turns a simple statement into so much more. Looking back on meeting the artist Keith Haring in November 1989 puts me at an odd transitory station.
The night was a clear cool one. Atlanta’s Faye Gold Gallery overflowed with all manner of people. The arrival was hectic. With us, we had a camera, four blank postal post cards, a rubber iguana (Ignatius, born 1959) and a wish to connect.
The work shown combined the photography of Herb Ritts with the icons of Keith Haring. Each piece pulled us more and more into the an abyss of unknowing – the why, the when and the confused frustration of a magician’s spell going haywire. The final eight pieces were, in fact, icons of Haring’s past solo works. Meeting the artist in a circle of satyrs, drag queens, photographers, art-groupies and high brow patrons was a perfect moment. We approached by jumping right into the stream of craziness:
us: Hello.
Keith: Hi!
us: (with silver baby buttons) Are these free?
Keith: Yup.
us: Would you mind signing these post cards?
Keith: Not at all. Hand them over.
us: Could we possibly take your picture?
Keith: Sure.
us: It has to be with our friend Iggi.
Keith: Well, bring Iggi over. I don’t mind.
us: (pulling Ignatius from a paper bag) Here he is!
Keith: Oh wow! sure, snap away. He’s great! Where’d you get him?
us: South Carolina. He’s as old as we are, a product of the late fifties.
Keith: This is fun. He’s holding up well isn’t he?
us: He’s just missing his fingers on his right……….
Butterfly club-poser girl: Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!!! Is that thing real?
us: Only if you scream at it!
Keith laughs.
us: We’d better go, we’re scaring the kids. Thanks so much.
Keith: No problem, that was real fun.
Girl: (to Keith) I hate those things, they scare me so bad.
Keith: (to girl) It’s not nice to hate. (to us) Bye guys.
us: See you, thanks again.
The next day, Keith visited the Paradise Gardens of renown Georgia outside artist Howard Finster. Work schedules changed our plans for going there (not knowing that we might get to help him and Keith assemble a 9 foot Coke bottle). Unfortunately we didn’t see him again.
He leaves all who met him and all who appreciate his hieroglyphic icons wondering about what would have been of his creativity. The experience of meeting him was an unforgettable one. I truly believe he enjoyed it as well. The clouds roll away and the visit back in time dissolves…
Photo credits: Morrissey/Smith with help from Mauren
