Erased Sol LeWitt

Dear Reader,

This is Tammy.  It’s hard to imagine that the Sol LeWitts are gone. We got up REALLY EARLY last week to witness the big event and I think I gasped when the first roll of paint hit it. And not because I’m one of those people who believe in the sacredness of art and its artifacts, but because I suddenly realized that these giant stripes of color have been a subliminal message for me in my five years of working here at the museum, and I gasped because I had finally figured it out…yes, Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawings #935 and #936 look like my mother’s dresses from the seventies—sacred (my mother and the seventies, I don’t really care about dresses).

Even still, there was something very satisfying about watching the erasure of this bold display. Someone made a joke about wearing white after Labor Day, and then staff photographer Don Ross got stuck up in the cherry picker.

I was sad to see them go:

Comments (3)

  • Wow I loved watching that! It was very satisfying in a way. Talk about closure. I wish I could hire those guys to paint over my past relationships. The end in particular, with the guy in the cherry picker lowering himself offscreen, was AWESOME. I liked your Hitchcocky cameo too, Tammy. Great job!

  • brilliant. i especially love the role of the cherry picker.

  • Tammy, I was also glad to be able to witness the Lewitts get painted over. I think watching it happen was less traumatic then them suddenly disappearing one day. Tim S. and I spoke about it and we compared it to an open casket funeral: it’s kinda weird but it also lets you say good-bye and have some closure.

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