Wednesday, November 13, 2019

ON LEAVING THE DAKOTA

ON LEAVING THE DAKOTA

View from The Dakota, Room 103 on 9th floor overlooking the Central Park. Photo by Indra Tamang.

Anyone reading my blog knows the story that made news when Ruth Ford died. I inherited her apartment and the smaller one upstairs where I lived for a very long time with Charles Henri Ford. Ruth’s apartment was sold, but I kept the smaller one, 103, on the 9th floor. I was no longer living in it, I have a nice house in Queens, but I kept it as an office, and a place to house the many boxes and file cabinets full of art, papers, photos, and memorabilia from Charles and Ruth, and my own artwork as well. Because renting it out is not allowed, eventually the expense of keeping it no longer made sense. So I made the decision to sell it, but not without mixed feelings. There is relief in not having the added worry and responsibility of keeping it, but also sadness at saying farewell to this venerable building after so long. There is no place on earth more familiar to me than the Dakota.

This month marks forty-five years since I first came to New York, to live in 103. It was November 1974 when I came. While I don’t remember the exact date, I know that I left Kathmandu with Charles on September 9th and we went first to Crete for a month, then to Paris, and then on to New York. Forty-five years of memories lie between that November day and this one. How shall I begin? 
In my early days at The Dakota with Charles and Ruth. Photo by Dotson Radar.

All of my memories are of a very privileged existence, of living at a very privileged address thanks to Charles and Ruth. Apartment 103 was small compared to Ruth’s apartment, but Charles and I were able to share it comfortably enough. Charles started introducing me to people immediately, inside and outside the Dakota. He knew everybody, the way he did in Paris. Thanks to the Dakota itself, I got to know many interesting neighbors over the years, who shared the same hallways, staircases and elevators. John and Yoko were among the first people I met. I remember John carrying the baby, Sean, and I remember watching the Thanksgiving Parade from the rooftop of the Dakota with them and a group of other neighbors. There was Rex Reed, Leonard Bernstein, Lauren Bacall, and Roberta Flack. I once shared a taxi with Roberta Flack, when she dropped me at the spot uptown where I’d parked my car. I used to talk to Connie Chung in the elevator.

When I first came, in 1974, Ruth was still hosting her famous salons. She was involved “romantically” with the writer Dotson Rader, who was much younger than she was, and they were considered such a hot item that People magazine devoted a whole article to them. Dotson Rader is the person who took me down to the cellar of the Dakota and showed me how to use the coin-op washing machine. It cost one quarter and one dime. He also gave me advice on how to grow taller—because he felt I was not tall enough—and his advice was that I should drink milk every day and do a little jumping-jack exercise, which he demonstrated, and I’ve never forgotten the sight of him doing that.

In the 1970s and ‘80s, all the galleries were mostly downtown in SoHo before the art scene moved to Chelsea. Charles and I would take the number 5 bus that went all the way down to Houston Street, and go to all the openings. Sometimes after the galleries, we would walk all the way back to the Dakota. There was a Woolworth’s on Amsterdam Avenue then, where I bought a little flowered autograph book which closes with a zipper. I still have it. It is filled with signatures, notes, and doodles from all kinds of characters, and it always delights anyone I show it to. Salvador Dali signed it for me when Charles took me to visit him at the St. Regis Hotel early on. I had no idea who Salvador Dali was at the time, but his long and elaborately arranged mustache reminded me of a tea seller I used to see on the walking trail between Kathmandu and the village where I grew up. I think I had a fairly unique point of view in those early years, which was that I met a lot of very famous people while having no idea how famous they were, and therefore I didn’t have any preconceived notions. I now feel lucky to have started with that blank slate. Salvador Dali liked to host teas just like Charles did. Every Sunday Charles hosted a tea and invited friends to 103. In New York, Charles was a destination for many people the way that his old friend Paul Bowles was in Tangier.

Now that 103 is almost entirely emptied and its contents safely stored near my house in Queens, I’ve decided to sit and try to write down the names of every notable person I met in that little apartment, even though it is almost impossible. What I have managed to remember amounts to a feast of name-dropping. But that is part of what makes 103, and the entire Dakota, so fascinating. The Dakota is a vault of history. It’s the reason people want to visit the Dakota, even just to look at it from across the street. I’m going to list here all the names that my memory has allowed, in no particular order, and hope I haven’t forgotten too many. To those that I do forget, my apologies—there will be other blog post opportunities for me to remember!

There was Andy Warhol and Paul Morrissey, the film director Christopher Miles, there was Bob Kingdom, a funny man who impersonated Truman Capote (although I don’t recall meeting Capote himself) and there was Robert Mapplethorpe and Patti Smith. The singer Asha Puthli would come over to visit from the San Remo. Penny Arcade was another regular, Nina Hagen came, and Quentin Crisp. Carolee Schneeman and Caterine Milinaire were there, and Gregory Corso, Bob Moore, Richard Bernstein, Ching Ho Cheng and Tally Brown. Lincoln Kirstein visited, so did Ray Johnson. I remember Marisol, Richard Howard, William Burroughs, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Philip Johnson, Lynne Tillman, David Leddick, Paul Grillo, Ulla Dydo, Valery Oisteanu, Charles Plymell, Allen Frame, Jane and Richard Ross. Pierre Le-Tan, Felice Picano, Rane Arroyo, and Ronnie Burk all sat here having tea, and so did Paul Cummings, Lil Picard, John Wilcock, Tom Weigel, David Bourdon, Larry Sawyer, Chi Chi Valenti, Steve Luttrell, Martin Miles, and Shiv Mirabito. Ira Cohen was one of the most frequent visitors, and he was also one of Charles’s friends who I knew the longest, since the early days in Kathmandu. 
Andy Warhol and Brook Shields at Studio 54. Photo by Indra Tamang.


Tennessee Williams was another regular, but Tennessee was never satisfied with the tea. At a party Charles threw for Leonora Carrington, Tennessee insisted that surely there must be something stronger than tea, and I think I came up with a little vodka that was hiding in the back of the freezer. It was at that party that Tennessee and Norman Mailer ended a feud they were having right before my eyes. I don’t know what the subject of their disagreement was, but I remember one of them saying, “Are we speaking?” And the answer was, “yes.” I remember Taylor Mead, and Bill Levy, publisher of Ins&Outs Press who was visiting from Amsterdam and actually brought Miss Holland with him. I don’t remember her name, but she was very nice, very pretty, and very tall. 

Henry Geldzhaler was a good friend who often came to have lunch with Charles, which I would prepare and serve. Eduard Roditi came whenever he visited from Paris, I think Paul Cadmus came, and Ned Rorem was another one who visited often. Mary McCarthy came for tea during the time she was teaching at Bard College. She was someone we visited a lot in Paris at her beautiful apartment. Kimon Friar would come to visit, the man who translated all the modern Greek literature into English.

The longer I sit thinking, the more people I keep remembering. Leee Black Childers, Arthur Tress David Diamond, Fabrice Couillerot, Donald Windham, William Eggleston, Richard Kostelanetz, Divine, Holly Woodlawn, Jayne County, and Cherry Vanilla, they all used to sit at the table around Charles, and I use to serve tea to everyone. Someone Charles liked very much was Ted Joans, who would come down to the Dakota from Harlem and bring sweet potato pie. After Charles passed, Steve Dalanchinsky wrote a tribute to him in the Brooklyn Rail, published in 2003. He wrote about Ted refusing to bring him up to visit Charles at the Dakota. Ted was worried that Steve would be rude. But Steve admired Charles and everything he did with the View magazine, and at least he saw Charles out and about. Quite a lot of the people I’ve mentioned here have passed away, most recently Steve Dalachinsky himself. And I think that Charles would have liked for Steve to visit.

The only person I can think of who was specifically not invited to the Dakota was Sylvia Miles. I used to see her out and about all the time, for years. She was always nice to me, but she had a reputation for not always being very pleasant. And because of some kind of disagreement she had with Ruth, Sylvia was persona non grata at the gates of the Dakota.

I have a memory of Mariel Hemingway being there. I remember the librettist, Gian Carlo Menotti coming, and David Amram, and I remember a certain friend of Ruth’s, a very dignified man named Desmond Guinness who had a castle in Ireland. I made tea for Desmond Guinness, and then of course, I put him into my camera. I photographed countless people over the years at the Dakota. 
The Dakota, as seen from the Central Park. 1894. Photo: Museum of the City of New York

In 2002, after Charles passed, I saw Yoko out in front of the building and she stopped to give me some words of encouragement, which I will always remember. And I will never forget the night, years before, when I was awakened by a lot of noise from downstairs,. I remember hearing the news on the radio the next morning that John Lennon had been shot right down in the driveway. Years passed, and I watched Sean grow up and become much taller than me. In later years, I would see Lauren Bacall walking her cute little dog every day. The dog was a white-blonde, just like she was. They were perfectly matched, and she always said hello.  

I am sure that I have missed some names, but all the names I mentioned here is a proof that Charles and Ruth had such a great influence, such cultural reach. Since their passing, I’ve hosted historians, researchers, museum and art gallery curators from all over, at the table where Charles sat for his teas. I’ve seen that the interest in Charles and Ruth is just as keen as ever, that their influence has not lessened because of they are no longer with us, or in the Dakota. So much of my own life was lived in this building full of stories. It will always be a part of me, just as Charles and Ruth will be too. I will continue to keep the flame of their legacies lighted. I’ll just be doing it from a different address. 
Charles and Ruth at The Dakota, Room 103. Christmas 1999. Photo by Indra Tamang.


It’s true that all things must come to an end, but I don’t think we ever feel it’s gravity until the end is upon us. When it really hits, it can be very painful, but we have to learn let go and cherish all the memories. So it’s with much sadness that I let go of the Dakota, but the time has come to do it, and with luck, I have a lot of good life left yet to live. When Charles was the same age as I am now, he still had decades of life ahead of him, the same with Ruth.

Standing in 103 today, I notice that the ceiling is much higher than I ever realized. Against one empty wall is a large painting, a portrait that Harold Stevenson made of Dotson Rader long ago, which he had given to Ruth as a gift. Dotson looks very young in the painting, which he was at the time Richard painted. When the moving truck came, I kept it aside to give it to Dotson. I think he’ll be glad to have it. 
In front of The Dakota. 2010. Photo by AP.



- Indra Tamang. 
  The Dakota, Room 103, November 2019



copyright © Indra Tamang 2019,  all rights reserved.
























Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Posted from San Francisco, CA
2/10/2019
On the occasion of Charles Henri Ford’s birthday, 10 February
I think it is safe to say that anyone reading this little announcement is someone who knew Charles Henri Ford, or who knows him through his great body of interesting work. Everyone who knew him can attest to the fact that he was an extraordinary person, someone who was not of the mainstream, and that he followed his own star throughout his long and remarkable life. So when I started looking for interesting events that shared their dates with that of Charles making his entry to the world, I was not surprised at what I found to keep him company. February 10th has seen some great moments.
On this day in 1840, Queen Victoria married Prince Albert (and on this day in 1971, the Royal Albert Hall banned a scheduled Frank Zappa concert). In New York in 1897 on this day, the New York Times started including “All the news that’s fit to print” on its front page. February 10th in 1933 introduced the singing telegram here in New York, and in 1949 the Morocco Theatre, also in New York, opened the play, Death of a Salesman. The Tom and Jerry cartoon made its debut in 1940, and in 1946 the first black pro-baseball player Jackie Robinson married Rachel Isum. Bob Dylan released “The Times They Are a’Changin” on this day in 1964, and some of the people who share their birthday with Charles include Boris Pasternak, Jimmy Durante, Bertolt Brecht, Chick Webb, Lon Chaney, Leontyne Price, and Roberta Flack (who was Charles’s neighbor in the Dakota) and those people would have made for a good dinner party downstairs at Ruth’s.
In his diary on this day in 1928, Charles Henri wrote: “But how, how am I to know if I am famous on February 10, 1929? … Plans should be formed, must be formed. Launching a poetry magazine would help immensely…”
He did launch his poetry magazine, called Blues, and it did help. Charles has an luxurious place of residence in history.
Happy Birthday, Charles. Always remembering you, on this day especially.


Thursday, September 27, 2018

Remembering Charles on the Day of His Passing

Remembering Charles on the Day of His Passing

In Paris on this day in 1934, Charles wrote in a letter:

To Daddy,

Arrived in Paris last night after a few days in Toulon and a couple of nights in Marseilles. Visited Aix-en-Provence on the way up, like walking in the 18th century. Spain has a brutality in the landscape that one misses in France. Paris doesn’t have the charm for me it once had and the sooner you send the money for me to come home on the better. Please make it as soon as possible. 

If I were to open the mailbox and find such a letter from Charles today, I would gladly send him the money for a ticket to come home, if that were possible. But during his long life, Charles saw and did and experienced enough for ten people. I imagine that he’s doing the same wherever he is now. I hope that he wanders the brutal landscapes that he loved here, and that each place he lands has all the charms (not lost) of old Paris and every other great cities in which he spent his earthly time. But wherever he may be, a part of him is always with me, and I’m always aware of him wherever I travel. 

Gone away but never forgotten, Charles.

Charles Henri Ford, Paris. Photo Credit: Michel Delsol

February 10, 1908 – September 27, 2002 - 2018


-Indra Tamang

09/27/2018



copyright © Indra Tamang 2018, all rights reserved.

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Ruth Ford (July 7, 1911 – August 12, 2009)

Ruth Ford 
(July 7, 1911 – August 12, 2009)

Pierre Balmain and Ruth Ford, photographed by Carl Van Vechten, November 9, 1947.

On this day in 1911, Ruth Ford was born in Brookhaven, Mississippi, with a very exciting life in store for her, as her many admirers know very well. In 2008, just a year before Ruth passed away, a discovery was made in a warehouse in Northeastern Italy: a print of a silent comedy film called Too Much Johnson, thought to be long lost, written and directed by Orson Welles. It was shot in 1938, three years before Welles made Citizen Kane. Ruth has a big role in the little movie, which was never intended to stand on its own, but rather to be part of his Mercury Theatre Company’s staging of William Gilette’s 1894 comedy of the same name, Too Much Johnson. The film was never been publicly screened. In 2013 it was shown for the first time at the Pordenone Silent Film Festival in Italy and can be found online now, having been beautifully restored.  

Too Much Johnson (1938) Directed by Orson Welles

Ruth was a member of Orson Welles’s Mercury Theatre Company and a lifelong lover of the stage. I still have in my possession numerous printed plays, which Ruth read either for pleasure or with interest of playing a part. I wish she could have lived to see herself in this wonderful film, and I think it is a fitting tribute for her birthday to show it here.

Happy birthday, Ruth. You live on in cinematic magic!


-Indra Tamang
07/07/2018


copyright © Indra Tamang 2018, all rights reserved.

Ruth Ford 
(July 7, 1911 – August 12, 2009)

Pierre Balmain and Ruth Ford, photographed by Carl Van Vechten, November 9, 1947.

On this day in 1911, Ruth Ford was born in Brookhaven, Mississippi, with a very exciting life in store for her, as her many admirers know very well. In 2008, just a year before Ruth passed away, a discovery was made in a warehouse in Northeastern Italy: a print of a silent comedy film called Too Much Johnson, thought to be long lost, written and directed by Orson Welles. It was shot in 1938, three years before Welles made Citizen Kane. Ruth has a big role in the little movie, which was never intended to stand on its own, but rather to be part of his Mercury Theatre Company’s staging of William Gilette’s 1894 comedy of the same name, Too Much Johnson. The film was never been publicly screened. In 2013 it was shown for the first time at the Pordenone Silent Film Festival in Italy and can be found online now, having been beautifully restored.  

Too Much Johnson (1938) Directed by Orson Welles

Ruth was a member of Orson Welles’s Mercury Theatre Company and a lifelong lover of the stage. I still have in my possession numerous printed plays, which Ruth read either for pleasure or with interest of playing a part. I wish she could have lived to see herself in this wonderful film, and I think it is a fitting tribute for her birthday to show it here.

Happy birthday, Ruth. You live on in cinematic magic!


-Indra Tamang
07/07/2018


copyright © Indra Tamang 2018, all rights reserved.

Monday, June 11, 2018

BLOG POST FOR THE YEAR

BLOG POST FOR THE YEAR

Tallest Building of the World - Burj Khalifa

I used to make a blog post whenever I took a trip, which was not too often, but this time it’s been a year since my last post, and within that year, my family and I have made a few trips. The last post I made was after our trip to Spain. Since then, we’ve visited Dubai, Kathmandu (by myself, in October, when I saw my extended family), Cancun with my three daughters along with my older daughter’s family, Chicago, and most recently, the Dominican Republic this past April. 

In Dubai, where we went between Christmas and New Year, Radhika’s niece Roshni came to pick us at the airport and took us to our hotel. While I was there, I learned about the huge amount of gold sitting in Dubai, and that gold toilet seats are not uncommon, although our hotel did not have any gold bathroom fixtures. Through Manchhiring Tamang’s recommendation we were greeted by the leaders of the Tamang Samaj U.A.E., Mahesh Moktan, Ram Moktan and Jeetendra Tamang and others who entertained us and treated us all wonderfully. We did lots of sightseeing which included the world’s tallest building, the world’s largest shopping mall, and also did camel riding (I thought we’d go on a little journey riding the camel, but all they did was take us in a big circle). Radhika had difficulty climbing onto the camel, but when she did she saw many wounds in the camel’s neck inflicted by its owners, and she felt very sorry for the animals. We also visited the Miracle Garden, an extravaganza of flowers and design, where a whole retired airplane sits beautifully covered in flowers.
A Golden Car Display at the World's Largest Shopping Mall in Dubai.


One night after dinner we took a boat ride to look at all the glittering lights with some of Radhika’s friends she knew from Nepal. I used to think that New York City had the most beautiful sky scrapers, but after visiting Dubai and looking at the buildings there, New York’s skyline looks like child’s play. Dubai is also extremely clean, with very strict rules about cleanliness. If somebody litters, they get a big fine. Most people seem to obey the rules because so many of them are foreigners, and if they don’t obey the rules they can be fined and deported. So everybody is very conscious of putting trash in the proper trash can. Last year I noticed that Barcelona was trash-less, and I wrote about that. This year I can add Dubai in that list too, at least within the city. We didn’t venture outside the city to see where the workers live, but it is a well-known fact that the huge numbers of laborers are not enjoying the famous luxuries everyone sees in pictures. We saw Nepalese workers everywhere in Dubai, along with lots of others from Bangladesh, Pakistan, Philippines and elsewhere. 
Dinner with Mr. Mahesh Moktan, Mr. Ram Moktan and Mr. Jeetendra Tamang of Tamang Samaj U.A.E. 


Dubai has completely reinvented itself in a relatively short span of time—in which it went from being a little sliver of a country with a small population, goats, and its old national trades of date-growing and pearl diving—to one of the richest countries, thanks to its rich resources of oil. It has the world’s number one seven star hotel Burj Al Arab built on the sea and it has large enough roof to facilitate a tennis court and a Helipad. It is home to the tallest 163 stories skyscraper in the world Burj Khalifa which brings in thousands of visitors and dollars everyday year round and the “largest shopping mall in the world.” Yet, Dubai has no natural drinking water of its own, the water is imported or obtained from desalination. At the same time, while they have no snow, they have year-round ice skating rinks. They also have very strict, and frankly quite absurd rules, such as holding hands or kissing in public can be punishable, and alcohol is forbidden. But of course, anything and everything is allowed for the rich people and people with power, including all the alcohol they want. All in all, Dubai is the city of beautiful buildings which functions as architectural fanfare during the day time and magnificent light show during the night. 
World’s number one seven star hotel Burj Al Arab at night. 

I may praise the tall buildings in Dubai, but here in New York I don’t like the highrises recently popping up all over Long Island City and Roosevelt Island on the South side of the Queens Bridge. When I cross the bridge looking south, I used to see a far distance all the way to the Williamsburg Bridge, but now there are tall buildings sitting in the middle of the river blocking amazing views. I have nothing against the economic growth in general, but these buildings just seem to do nothing but block the view from every direction.

One of the reasons I went to Kathmandu was for the elections of the NRA (Non Resident Nepalese in America) that were taking place on October 2017, I took the opportunity to visit my village to spend time with my extended family while I was there, and I also made a trip to an ancient pilgrimage called Namo Buddha, one of the most sacred Buddhist sites in Nepal. I stayed in Butsugen Hotel right near the Boudha Stupa. One day I went hiking with TSA’s former president Bharat Moktan and famous singers Prem Lopchan and Roj Moktan to Sundarijal, a famous waterfall on a mountain, with a name that translates to Beautiful Holy Water. At the entrance to the trek where we bought the tickets, they had big signs telling people to not litter on the mountain and to bring back any water bottles and snack wrappings with them to throw away in receptacles. I was shocked and disgusted by what I saw on the mountain trail. It was so littered as if people went up to the falls just to throw away trash. I made a video that day which is on Youtube now, to let the government know what I felt about it. I made a few suggestions on how to possibly enforce the rules that are scoffed at. But will anyone listen to me, one person? 

The Dominican Republic was no different. There was litter everywhere. One of the fun things we did on our visit there was take a boat to the little Soana island near Punta Cana where the movie Pirates of Caribbean was shot. It was a booze cruise, where you could have as much rum as you wanted for no extra charge, and at a certain spot the water was so clear we all jumped off the boat and into the water. But I kept noticing lots of trash which took away a lot of the pleasure. The trash problem is no different here in New York. I’ve mentioned the importance of reducing and eliminating street trash to our local politicians, as it seems to me that clean streets should be at least as important as high-rise developments. I think there should be strict rules about trash and it should be strictly enforced, with a fine given to anyone who litters. People who are aware that they will pay fine if they litter are less likely litter, and improvement will start from within each person. 
Soana island, Dominican Republic.


Meanwhile back in the old USA, Donald Trump (whose name I just cannot utter attached with the word that starts with a “P” for the highest office) seems to be keeping himself busy just with hiring and firing people as he wishes. Now he’s giving himself entire credit for the Singapore Summit with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un that is to be held in few hours (June 11th). The meeting had many ups and downs. Trump cancelled the meeting one time but it was resumed. Many critics believe that Trump is not prepared or is not the right person to be negotiating with one of the nuclear powers. The meeting is scheduled to begin at 9PM ET and I can imagine them sitting together in a bubble bath playing with matching rubber duckies. Donald Trump and Donald Duck! The absurdity of it all is something hard to get over, but there is still wishful thinking and hope they come up with a fruitful resolution of peace and harmony. 

I am looking forward to the summer and whatever it might bring. I want to wish everyone, all my family, friends and well-wishers, a happy summer, too, and one with good health, and hopefully a bit of joy as well. 


-Indra Tamang
06/11/2018


copyright © Indra Tamang 2018, all rights reserved.

Saturday, February 10, 2018

Remembering Charles Henri Ford on his 110th birthday

Remembering Charles Henri Ford on his 110th birthday

Charles Henri Ford. 1933

Had Charles been given the chance, he would probably have said yes to living forever because life was an exciting ride for him. Everything he dreamed of or hoped for seemed to come true eventually. On his birthday in 1927, he made a pledge to be famous in two years. And then on his next birthday, in 1928, he added up what he had achieved so far at the age of twenty. He had a poem published in The New Yorker, and he had a few poems accepted by smaller publications. It didn’t seem like much to him, but he still had a year left in his pledge. Charles was ambitious, and he was on his way to being famous. But he had one concern that wouldn’t exist today, and he put it down as a question in his diary: But how, how am I to know if I am famous on February 10, 1929? He then wrote: Plans should be formed, must be formed. Launching a poetry magazine would help immensely.

1928 was a time when meeting influential people was easier than it is now, even without the internet or reliable telephones or jet travel. Charles had a talent for sending letters to very famous people—such as Ezra Pound and Gertrude Stein—and getting not just replies, but submissions to the poetry magazine he launched. And that little magazine, Blues, went a long way to helping him become famous—not in 1929 perhaps, but within his lifetime for sure.  No twenty-year-old today would have to wonder how they would know if they were famous. All they’d have to do is look at their phone. But at the same time, it is not so easy to meet and befriend famous people now a days, the way Charles was able to 90 years ago just by writing a letter. 
By the early 1930s, Charles was in Paris, living with Djuna Barnes and writing, surrounded by the most exceptional creative people his day. 

On February 6th, 1933, just before his birthday Charles wrote to his mother from Paris:

Mother dearest,

You’re a lamb to send me the money for my birthday. It came this morning and I don’t know what I would have done had it not. Djuna is quite broke too since she didn’t plan to stay over here so long and no longer has her column in the Theatre Guild magazine. She is working on a story for The New Yorker, an article for the Theatre Arts Monthly on the French stage which is not as good as the New York stage…I have been working on the novel and it is just about completed.

At the Dome the other evening I saw James T. Farrell, a young writer from the University of Chicago—Kay Boyle introduced us but I had been the first one to publish him (in Blues) over two years ago and since then he’s had two novels accepted.

Charles had a lot to do with helping others have success over the years, by publishing their work in Blues, or later on in View, or by introducing people to one another. All of that made him very happy. I think his legacy, in addition to all of his art, is the lesson of perseverance. Keep working, keep trying, and eventually, usually, dedication pays off.

Happy Birthday Charles, wherever you are. You are not forgotten and missed every day.
Charles Henri Ford, 1934 by Carl Van Vechten

CHARLES HENRI FORD
February 10, 1908 – September 27, 2002




-Indra Tamang
02/10/2018


copyright © Indra Tamang 2018, all rights reserved.