John Giorno (1936–2019)

This was just a blast. Giorno is ridiculous, but also -- what a life! Last year MoMA had a small exhibit of Giorno's Dial-a-Poem project, and several months back Patti Smith mentioned Dial-a-Poem in one of her mesmerizing stories from the stage. My son and I also had a lengthy discussion of Andy Warhol's Sleep (for those who have not seen it, it is 5 hours of John Giorno sleeping.) All this is to say he has been on my mind. I was not aware this book existed until last year, but as soon as I learned of its existence, in the midst of all the Giorno references in my life, I put it on the short TBR. What a good choice.

For anyone interested in the mid-20th NYC art world this is a must-read. Giorno waxes nostalgic on the "golden age of promiscuity" and he banged most anyone who was anyone. He knew everyone and had sexual encounters and/or lengthy relationships with Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg, Allen Ginsburg, Jack Keroac, William Burroughs, Jasper Johns and others (some without the widely known brand names of those mentioned here, but many of who were very important to art history.) In truth this is not my favorite artistic epoch. Burroughs had some real antisocial personality disorder hallmarks and Ginsburg was a pedophile, and I, for aesthetic reasons rather than their unappealing personal choices, find their work to be unadulterated shit. True story, I once stepped on a Rauschenberg installation at MoMA and set off all the alarms because I thought it was just a pile of shipping packaging someone had not disposed of yet. Concept alone is not art, the concept needs to be well executed. Warhol and Jasper Johns made things pretty to look at, (whether it is art is in the eye of the beholder), and effectively shattered the barriers between iconography and art (or maybe popular movements and fine art.) I am not sure we were not better off with the barrier, but I also cop to being super comfortable considering myself as a member of the cultural elite. (I can't say if anyone else considers me to be in that club, but it is one I am happy to pay my dues to.) All that said, it is hard to argue that these people were not interesting, and they unquestionably moved art forward with good and bad results. Reading this it appears they were all hatched in some Area 51 facility and it is clear they all brought unique visions to the world. This is as good a chronicle as I have ever read of an artistically fecund time, one that changed the larger society, and it is entertaining as hell. Ridiculous? Yes, frequently, but compelling and well-written.

I don't usually include trigger warnings, but if you think you will be traumatized by reading descriptions of the specific sensations of penetrating the assholes or the unique taste of the cum of Rauschenberg, Burroughs, et al, take a pass. Ditto if drug use bugs you. There is a lot of both. Also if you don't want to read about ushering Burroughs through the Bardo, you don't want to read this -- there is a lot of Eastern Mysticism lite running through the second half of the book that might be problematic for Buddhists and Atheists. Otherwise, have at it!… (more)