Chop Suey and The Pool With Two Figures by Tosh Berman

 

Chop Suey and The Pool With Two Figures by Tosh Berman

Back of a Spoon by Tosh Berman

 

Back of a Spoon by Tosh Berman

My Melancholy Life by Tosh Berman

 

"My Melancholy Life" by Tosh Berman. Read it here: 

My Melancholy Life by Tosh Berman

Tosh For Artbook/D.A.P. on Edward Hopper : A Fresh Look At Landscape (HATJE CANTZ/ Fondation Beyeler)

Tosh Berman on the American Painter Edward Hopper

A Short Story by Tosh Berman

I buy art like others buy blankets to keep them warm in a freezing night.  I figured if it gets too cold I can burn the painting for warmth.  Excellent investment for one's mental and physical health.  I went to a poster shop in Westwood where they sell 20th-century prints of famous paintings. It was here where I purchased a print of Caravaggio's "The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, originally painted sometime between 1601-1602, but the reprint made in 2004.  

The owner of the shop there at the time, Mr. Gagosian, had a wide selection of prints to buy, or even rent if one is on a budget.   I was taught at an early age never to rent or borrow and to purchase is the best policy.  Mr. Gagosian asked me what I was looking for. I told him that I wanted something that expressed the angst and worries of this sad century, but also something colorful to match the interiors of my living room.   He asked me what my budget is, and I told him that not to be concerned about budgeting and that I'm going to the boundaries of $50 to $100. 

He showed me a print of a painting by Edward Hopper, called "Chop Suey."   It's a very nice figurative painting of two women having a meal or chatting over a table, and there is a man and woman in conversation on the side of the painting.  The one thing that I found troublesome about the painting is the title.  "Chop Suey."  I didn't think the interior of the restaurant looks oriental.   And the other thing that bugs me is that one can see the signage outside the building saying 'Suey." Or to be exact, we can see the letters "U" and "E" clearly but we have to presume that the half of the "S" Is actually an "S."  And the "Y' could be easily a "V" in this painting.   I don't know why I'm focusing on the lettering of the side of the building, or perhaps what is a neon light - or even if the painting takes place in the evening.  The more I look at this painting I found it disturbing.  I asked Mr. Gagosian for a discount, due to the upsetting composition of the work.   It's initially $100, but I got it knocked down to $90.  

The other painting that caught my eye is a work by David Hockney.  "Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures)."  I prefer if the painting is called "Pool with Two Figures."   I don't think we need the word artist in the title. Since it's a painting by an artist, why put a focus on artist again.  It's a colorful painting of a young man, who's dressed nicely looking at another young man in a swimming pool.    At first, I thought the man in the pool drowned, and we're just looking at a floating body.  But I think the artist would have called the painting  "Pool with a Dead figure and Young Man" or something of that order.  Still, I love the mountain range in the picture, and the composition is excellent. Plainly worth the $100, but then Mr. Gagosian told me that this print would be $150.  To my surprise, he wouldn't go down from that price.  I then immediately walked out of the store, thinking he would stop me.  I turned around the corner and again, to my surprise, he didn't run after me. I then walked back into his shop, and he knew I would pay the full price of $150.   

Nevertheless, for a total of $240 (plus sales tax), I can bring two decent paintings back to my home.   I learned that one should never fret over art prices, and to do so will make you look or sound cheap.  The worth of art is something beyond currency.  Although the money of a Monopoly game does look good. 

- Tosh Berman

July 22, 2014

July 22, 2014

I couldn’t sleep last night so I just got dressed and went to my diner on Greenwich Avenue, to have a cup of herbal tea. In case, I can go back to sleep later.  I was worried by yesterday’s meeting I had with Doctor Menninger, my psychiatrist for the past three years.  I suffer from depression that just doesn’t stop.  In the middle of the night, while I’m in bed, I often started crying for no reason, at least in my mind I can’t find the source of this misery.  He has given me a prescription and I have been taking it on a strict basis, but still, I can’t remove the darkness that seems to be tattooed on my brain.  Being a rather vain man, people, especially girls, have commented that I have developed bags under my eyes, which are a pretty new visual for me.  The utensils at this diner are very shiny, and I can see my reflection on the back of the spoon, and the first thing I notice are the bags.   My face is very pale, and the darkness under my eyes disturbs me.  Doctor Menninger, thinks I should think of other things besides yours truly.

The situation is I only know myself, and I don’t know that much about anything else. When I feel anything, emotionally speaking, it is always a bad feeling.  If I had one philosopher or writer that I followed, it’s Amy Vanderbilt.  Her “Complete Book of Etiquette” is as close to the Bible for me as possible.  In the book, I found this quote that rings true to me: “Good manners have much to do with the emotions.  To make them ring true, one must feel them, not merely exhibit them.” That and “do not speak of repulsive matters at the table” pretty much rules my thoughts on how one should interact with the world today.   The problem with me is how far can I go with my emotions in a public space?  My awkwardness just gets in the way, when I wish to express myself in a certain fashion, and usually I have to re-think how I should say or convey my feelings, so it won’t disturb or put people off.

When I want to communicate, that is the time or moment when I fail to do so.  Which of course, triggers off my anxiety which leads to the crippling depression.   The Vanderbilt book is an excellent guide for me to follow and also I can obtain information in the book in bite-size portions. Nonetheless, sometimes reading is very difficult, and I tend to read words off a computer or page, and I tend to wander into some abstract zone, where I find myself trapped with (again) the anxiety that seems to rule my conscience.   Going to the cinema helps me in that I don’t have to think, it is just sitting there in front of a large screen and focusing on the images, and if I want, I can hear and digest the words coming from the actor’s words. “Taxi Driver” is a film that I have seen at least 25 times.  I of course have the DVD, but when it originally came out in 1976, I would sit in a theater and watch that film over and over again.  The first viewing I wasn’t practically paying any attention to it, the images off the screen were just background noise, so I can sit in the darkness and think or let my mind wander.   Over time, and repeated screenings I started to pick up the anxiety of the main character, and that, oddly enough, helped me through the day.

The only other film besides “Taxi Driver” that had a huge effect on me was the “The Invisible Man” starring Claude Rains, directed by James Whale, and even the great Preston Struges had a hand in writing the script.  I think what appealed to me was Rains’ interpretation of the invisible man and how one can be there, but not there.  In other words, I often felt invisible to my peers, or in a crowd, and it’s moments like these, where I realize it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.    I often wonder if I should just enter the world, and totally subject myself to a cause or even a position in life, but the truth in the manner, is that I wouldn’t be in it for the purpose of that cause, but more to fill myself with a duty to prove that I’m alive and somehow I can make a difference out there.  Then again, perhaps it is appropriate enough that I sit here and look at my reflection off the back of a spoon.