Alice Neel Said I Reminded Her of a Cat

Before they met me people (might) have, thanks to my nickname, leapt to the seemingly logical assumption that since my artwork was wonderful, I was worthy to be a celebrated Woman Artist. Female artists such as Sandy Kinnee, deserve to be admired.

I happened to have timed my entrance into the Art World better than M. E. O’Hare, who was a kick ass painter as well as being my aunt. When she was starting out in the 1940s, being a Woman Artist in a tiny gallery world designed for and run primarily by males, was not her choice. She chose the route of taking commissions and painting portraits. Her gender was obscured by her use of her initials. There were many women artists, few were taken seriously, despite the quality of their work. By the time I leapt into the first little puddle in the art world, there was an awareness that all along women had been making art and it was damn well time they be taken seriously. Women artists were no longer asked, as Lee Krasner had been, to do all the cooking and cleaning and maybe, just maybe, you can paint next Sunday. M.E. O’Hare continued to make Art every day. She just never had to play second fiddle to a Jackson Pollock or a Joe Schmoe.

When I got out of Art school I did the things common at the time. I entered national Juried ex-hibitions and showed my work to galleries. I got lucky; I suppose. The juried shows were “blind”, meaning the works were judged solely on the physical artwork. Where you received your BFA or MFA may at best be guessed at by the juror, based upon the type of Art submitted. Male or female was unidentified, even on the forms, which the jurors only saw after the selections had been determined. Judging was always gender free, so far as I recall. At best a juror might see a signature, but as my aunt had been using only first initials, many artists, male and female, continued to sign their work on the lower portion of the completed painting with their initials before their last name. It was simply an accepted way of signing. The juried exhibitions gave my work credibility. It was accepted if one’s work got into a national show it must have some quality or value. Do such competitive exhibitions still exist? Probably not.

Having been included in such juried exhibitions, I could add them to my resume. With a selection of slides, a resume of shows, I could submit my work to distant galleries. I understood the concept of rejection that accompanies sending off a cover letter, resume and slides to a gallery in another state.

I will never know for sure if acceptance of my work has ever been influenced by gender biased preference. I created my shaped paper kimonos and fans not as gendered clothing and attributes of sexuality, but what was an appropriation of non-western formats rather than the ubiquitous, everyday rectangle used by artists since the invention of right angles. I was no more imagining or celebrating feminine attire than painting with lipstick or nail polish. Actually, I confess to having celebrated a little by drawing from time to time with brightly colored nail polish.

Back in the 1970s communication was blind or could be neutral. Letters arrived in one’s mailbox, an actual, physical container where letters and postcards were deposited. At that time one could not search the internet for much of anything, especially for information concerning the gender of a young artist.

So, unless one met me face to face more people than not might probably assume Sandy was a “she” and not a “him”. Hmm…Sandy makes kimonos……

It is possible and highly likely that my work was borrowed from my NYC gallery for exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art to be more gender inclusive. This is perhaps why the Metropolitan Museum of Art purchased one of the first Non-Geometric Kimonos; to include a woman artist’s work in its holdings. I have always wondered, especially as the art dealer who sold the Non-Geometric Kimono to the museum was a Boston gallery. I had never been to the gallery or even spoke on the phone with them.

Twice I have been included on all female panels at College Art Association conventions. In both cases the topic was handmaking paper. In each time the chairwomen seemed confused to meet me in person. Perhaps I am simply a confusing person. Howardena Pindell headed the first of these two panels in New Orleans.

Strangers who know only my name may or may not be confused when we meet. I know for a fact that although William T. Wiley and Sandy Kinnee had corresponded for a year, concerning one of his earliest artworks damaged in the art museum where I was Museum Technician. When we happened to meet face to face at Pace Gallery, he was very confused. He assumed Sandy was a woman.

In the 1970s Miriam Shapiro did a visiting artist talk at Oberlin College, where I was working for the museum. At the time I was not yet aware that one of my fans had just been hung at MoMA between a Dine and a Rauschenberg, but that is yet another story. When Shapiro and I were introduced, I made a point of telling her how much of an influence her geometric paintings had been to me. They were inspiring. Such short meetings, however, could not possibly leave enough of an impression for her to remember me from Adam. My name would have been immediately forgotten. Sometime later my New York dealer called for permission to loan Miriam Shapiro several of my kimonos. I agreed. No details were given. It was two or three decades later that I discovered that my kimonos were included in an exhibition she organized at MoMA. I do not know whose work was in that show. My suspicion is it was made up of women artists, except for me.

If people who acquire my work do so because they connect with my Art, it pleases me. If their desire is to support a woman artist, I would have wished they had owned one of my aunt’s delightful and marvelous paintings. (or something made by Norie, Nancy, Chris, or Jude, or Minna, or Rita, or Jean, or Kate) Or perhaps one of Alice Neel’s portraits. Alice knew I wasn’t a girl. Alice said my wife looked like Dante and I reminded her of a cat.

A boy cat.

Sandy Kinnee, boy cat

postscript: I knew of one famous artist whose nickname was Sandy. That Sandy was known to make jewelry from time to time. He was better known for his "mobiles". He was only called Sandy by those close to him, otherwise he was Alexander. in 1970 I was asked to hang one of Calder's mobiles for a major collector. After it was installed I mentioned to the collector that if anyone asked, she might say that the piece was installed by Sandy....and leave it at that.

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