Being Kazimir Malevich
December 18th, 2001No, this isn’t a pitch for an off-the-wall movie about the inside of the Russian avant-garde painter, Kazimir Malevich’s mind. If so, there’d be rightful panic in the streets. The guy was a case study in wishful revolutionary thinking and a true artistic innovator of conceptualism, only to be ker-plunked by rigid Soviet power in the end. Shame.
It is, however, a near-end celebration for Liz’s fall graduate semester studies. One of her last projects, an educational packet tour de force on comrade Malevich is in the process of printing right now. Then tomorrow, it’s off to DC for some final exams.
Truth be told, I’m all proof read out but not nearly as plain poofed out as Liz. She’s put in a long hard semester, which everyone knows didn’t get off to the best start. I’m so proud of her this semester that I can hardly find the words. Two more semesters to go until she’s mastered her education.
She’s already mastered me, but most of that’s not fit for print.