When we bought a raw space in Lower Manhattan, we hired two contractors (partners) to do the rehab for us. Like most of the men doing that work, they were artists. And they sub-contracted to many other artists, doing specialized tasks. I still remember visiting the work site, seeing an already-tall young man with lion-like hair, atop his sheet-rock platforms; literally stomping around on metal stilts while he slathered compound (expertly!) onto the wall surface. Face, hands, hair, jumpsuit, motorcycle boots, all coated in a silt of white dust. He looked fearless, and dare I say wildly attractive. The space echoed with noise that day…….mostly work noises………. but also the epic static of a radio tuned to a rock station. The radio itself was a relic, worthy of a Rauschenberg combine. It had long since lost its outer case, and was just a hunk of noisy innards now splattered with joint compound and paint. Remarkable, gifted,
hard-working, great-looking men! Let’s hear it for the guys.