Monday, October 17, 2011
CHANGED TIME FOR MARSHALL FREDERICKS LECTURE
Wednesday, November 2, at Saginaw State University campus, Celia Bertoia will give a lecture on Harry Bertoia at 5:00 PM. Earlier it was erroneously stated to be 7 PM. Hope to see you all at 5:00 PM!
Friday, October 7, 2011
TELL ME YOUR HARRY STORIES
As the youngest daughter, I was born when Harry was already 40 years old, thus I missed a lot of his life! I would LOVE to hear your stories of meeting Harry, first discovering his work, your feelings about his pieces, or any interesting tidbits about him.
I'll tell you one of mine about my Dad. When I was a teenager, Arieto let his hair grow long. Maybe he was in tune with the hippies of the day, or perhaps he didn't really pay attention to his appearance with all the other priorities he had. My theory is that he was letting loose and being himself. One day he asked me to trim his hair. Since I had cut some of my girlfriends' hair with some degree of success, I happily agreed. As I trimmed off a few inches (but not too much!), we chatted about my life or life in general. I remember the shaving cream smell on his neck. His eyes were an amazing light icey blue. His skin was ruddy, and his beard strongly wanted to erupt, but he never allowed it. The haircuts became a tradition, so that whenever I was home from college or Colorado, we would sit outside, put the towel on his shoulders, and have a father/daughter moment. I have fond memories of those small incidents.
I'll tell you one of mine about my Dad. When I was a teenager, Arieto let his hair grow long. Maybe he was in tune with the hippies of the day, or perhaps he didn't really pay attention to his appearance with all the other priorities he had. My theory is that he was letting loose and being himself. One day he asked me to trim his hair. Since I had cut some of my girlfriends' hair with some degree of success, I happily agreed. As I trimmed off a few inches (but not too much!), we chatted about my life or life in general. I remember the shaving cream smell on his neck. His eyes were an amazing light icey blue. His skin was ruddy, and his beard strongly wanted to erupt, but he never allowed it. The haircuts became a tradition, so that whenever I was home from college or Colorado, we would sit outside, put the towel on his shoulders, and have a father/daughter moment. I have fond memories of those small incidents.
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