Keith Haring Journals (24 page)

All stories of white men’s “expansion” and “colonization” and “domination” are filled with horrific details of the abuse of power and the misuse of people.

I’m sure inside I’m not white. There is no way to stop them, however. I’m sure it is our destiny to fail. The end is inevitable. So who cares if these pigs kill me with their evil disease, they’ve killed before and will continue to kill until they suck themselves into their own evil grave and rot and stink and explode themselves into oblivion.

I’m glad I’m different. I’m proud to be gay. I’m proud to have friends and lovers of every color. I am ashamed of my forefathers. I am
not
like them.

Today I read in the
New York Times
that all of the officers who killed Michael Stewart were
again
dismissed of charges.

Continually dismissed, but in their minds they will never forget. They know they killed him. They will never forget his screams, his face, his blood. They must live with that forever.

I hope in their next life they are tortured like they tortured him. They should be birds captured early in life, put in cages, purchased by a fat, smelly, ugly lady who keeps them in a small dirty cage up near the ceiling while all day she cooks bloody sausages and the blood spatters their cage and the frying fat burns their matted feathers and they can never escape the horrible fumes of her burnt meat. One day the cage will fall to the ground and a big fat ugly cat will kick them about, play with them like a toy, and slowly
kill
them and leave their remains to be accidentally stepped on by the big fat pig lady who can’t see her own feet because of her huge sagging tits.

An eye for an eye . . .

I’m not afraid of anything I’d ever done.

Not ashamed of anything.

The first parts of this are being rewritten from notes taken since the beginning of the trip. This is the first time I’ve had time to write.

Leave New York City at 7:30 PM for Paris. Came to airport in limo with Adolfo Arena. Smoking pot all the way to the airport.

Traveling with Juan and Kwong. Take two Valiums and sleep almost all the way to Paris.

Arrive in the morning. Took a taxi into Paris to drop off the Beaubourg canvas (to be painted) and some luggage. Called George Condo at Vendôme Hotel. Also Hôpital Necker wanted a meeting so we rushed over and had a meeting with the people there. There were several painting experts(?), and we met the hospital directors.

Hôpital seemed a bit apprehensive about what I would paint. They had only seen some books/catalogues and were a little worried. I drew a quick sketch and explained why I didn’t work from “exact” plans or sketches. They seemed a bit more “assured.” Chose paint colors. Then went back to meet Juan and Kwong and caught taxi to airport for 3:00 PM flight to Düsselfdorf.

Arrive in Düsseldorf at 4:00 PM. Picked up by Hans Mayer. Go to gallery and then immediately to factory in Essen at 5:00 PM. We see the cut-outs of maquette of “Red Dog for Landois.” Looks O.K.

Meeting with Hans and executive from Mercedes-Benz at Mercedes plant in Düsseldorf. Discuss possibility of Mercedes painting my sculptures. Tour the plant. Pretty incredible.

Two PM return to factory in Essen to attempt to construct maquette. Seemed impossible at first. Ancient roller (portable) borrowed to attempt to roll the steel. Discouraging after having worked at Lippincott.

Eventually we get some satisfactory results good enough at least to indicate the exact radius, position, etc., of final maquettes.

Return to Düsseldorf for meeting with Helge Achenbach to discuss mural at new headquarters of BBD&O (huge advertising agency, I’m told) and meet one of the presidents of BBD&O. Looks O.K.

Then (surprise), dinner with the man Helge Achenbach is trying to get me to do carpet with. Sneaky surprise, but unavoidable. I told him I would only do it if Sol Lewitt will do it, since they say Sam Francis and David Hockney have already agreed and they say Sol will do it. I don’t believe it for a minute, so I agree to do it only if Sol does. I’m sure he won’t.

But if he does it, I will.

Had told Hans of the mural the evening before and he expressed concern (justifiably) over Achenbach. Hans thinks Tony Shafrazi should be involved. I don’t really think so since Tony sometimes has a way of fucking up projects like this by over-complicating them, but to appease Hans I called Tony and suggested he have a meeting with Achenbach and share in the percentage. So of course
everyone
is making money off this and I am doing the work . . . again.

Call Julian Schnabel at hotel (he’s in same hotel) and arrange to see him at his show. He’s installing a show at the museum. It looked good.

Buy a postcard of my mural from New York City I hadn’t seen before and sign copies of books in bookstore after I am recognized.

Drive to Netherlands to see museum with Hans. Possible place to show the big sculptures. Great sculpture gardens. Huge. Great Dubuffet, Oldenberg and lots of Lipchitz. Incredible Van Gogh collections all hanging salon-style, side by side, packed together because main building was getting repainted or under construction. Funny situation. It made them all look like cheap imitations because of how they were hung, Manet and Renoir and Mondrians all mixed up, side by side and only inches apart. Funny how important “space” is . . .

When their “importance” is reduced and they’re forced to compete with each other they are not so “grand” anymore. Only the great ones withstand this test. Great lesson in art history and reality.

Drive back to Düsseldorf at 110 mph in Hans’ convertible BMW just in time to change and shower to go to dinner at Krupp’s house.

Nice, “cute” mansion. Very formal couscous buffet. We are the only ones not wearing ties. Nice people, lousy food. “Chit-chat” and discuss possibility of Krupp doing assembly of other sculptures since original factory only seems capable of “cutting,” not assembling and bending. Was this a prearranged “accidental coincidence”? Hans is very clever. Like Andy, many dinner parties were also “meetings in disguise.” No wasted time! Makes sense to me . . .

Did some drawings for guests, including the inevitable “this is for my 16-year-old brother” drawing.

If I could only meet all these 16-year-old sons, brothers, nephews I’m always drawing for . . .

Went with Hans to Kunstsammlung in Düsseldorf to see
incredible
collection. Warhols for days! Twombly, Rauschenberg, Beuys . . . Andy gets so much more respect in Europe. Nobody has a Warhol collection in a museum like this in America. Small museum, great light.

Hans has great stories of times spent with Andy in Germany. Anybody who Andy spent this much time with and was still selling paintings to and doing favors for must be O.K.

I am becoming more respectful of Hans and wondering why Tinguely warned me about him?

But there’s always two sides to every story. I should know about two-sided stories!

Went to see Hans’s new house being reconstructed. He has an idea for me to do a huge sculpture for this amazing circular piece of land in the middle of his property. Looks incredible. I am intrigued and honored.

Return to hotel and pack for return to Paris. Kwong Chi has been running in the park and is convinced he has found the “cruising part” because of discarded rubbers and trampled bushes. Good for him . . .

Read yet
another
AIDS article in
Herald Tribune
. Article about homophobia increase on American college campuses. Violence, etc.

Very frightening, but very predictable.

In fact, very much according to “plan,” I’m sure. 3:00 PM—Fly to Paris

Check in La Louisiane. Dinner with Juan and Kwong in Brasserie.

Go to Hôpital Necker to check paint, buy brushes, etc. Seems to be in order. Go to Beaubourg to explain how to hang my canvas and inquire about photo of mural being included in exhibition. Inquire about Beaubourg video crew shooting mural painting. Three women assure me they will do this. Of course, consequently, they never appear again. Dinner with Condo and Mabe and Kwong and Juan.

10:00 AM—Arrive at Necker ready to paint.

11:30: Paint arrives. Begin to paint. I told Juan I didn’t think I needed him as I struggle alone till 4:00 PM. Kwong is sleeping. Beginning is very difficult. Immediately realize
brushing
all of background color is ridiculously impossible. I break for lunch and go buy rollers myself. Hospital staff doesn’t understand English and don’t understand what I’m saying. Kwong Chi arrives after frantic secretaries call hotel. I am working inside a box held from a crane by a steel cable. Building is eight stories high.

Instructions for moving are signaled to man operating crane. Tricky at first but maneuverable. When Juan arrives it becomes much easier because we both paint at same time. I outline, he rolls.

Finish at 8:00 PM. Two colors, two coats each.

Dinner with Roger Nellens and wife and gorgeous son at Otto Hahn’s house. Talk business entire dinner. Discuss all aspects of Knokke exhibition.

Juan points out later in hotel that Nellens’ order of business is a little strange:

I agree, he has it backwards.

8:00 AM-8:30 PM: Paint mural. Meet Julia at lunchtime. Buy more brushes. Much faster with Juan there all day. Fourth color is now on, two coats each. Arms, hands hurt and blistered from brushes and rollers.

10:00 PM: Dinner at La Coupole for opening of Jim Rosenquist’s show. Sit across from Jim. He has great stories of sign-painting days when he was working in New York City in the Sixties. Incredible stories. It makes my mural sound small. Talking about 40-foot O’s . . . Julia is here and fun. Meet Swedish dealer interested in showing me who shows Rauschenberg, Rosenquist, etc. Meet Belgian lady who has gallery Brussels. Makes me promise I’ll visit her . . .

Mural rained out—thank God! Feel too sore to paint anyway. This means it’s impossible to finish mural
and
do Beaubourg painting before Japan. So I’ll do Beaubourg painting when I return.

I go to Beaubourg to explain this. In the meantime, they have canvas hanging already. It’s hanging backwards (seams facing out). It is impossible to find anyone in this museum. It’s so big nobody knows what is going on. Very frustrating. Now they say they might not be doing the bag they asked me to design either.

Went to Templon to see Jim Rosenquist’s show. Nice drawings. I’m not sure what I think of the paintings. Went to see Bruno Schmidt’s show and met Kwong Chi there.

Was having an argument (silly) with Juan earlier in the room because I said he was “stupid” because he was watering the flowers in the room with the shower hose. So he wanted to stay in the room. But I ran into him on the street outside of the gallery. Everything is O.K.