The Italian Teacher(102)

According to the catalog, the Faces have all entered prominent public collections, owing to the tireless efforts of the Pulitzer-nominated biographer Connor Thomas, who has made it his mission to accomplish the lifelong wish of Bear Bavinsky. The museums didn’t pay full valuation, instead covering outstanding taxes and fines owed by the estate. Today the Faces reside in the permanent holdings of the Musée d’Art Moderne in Paris, the Menil Collection in Houston, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the Norton Museum of Art in West Palm Beach, the Art Gallery of Ontario, the Moderna Museet in Stockholm, and the Gemeentemuseum in The Hague, among others.

In the final room, Marsden hesitates by the exit, not willing to leave. Rob is curious to peek into The Selfie Shtick, so Marsden returns alone to the beginning of the Bavinsky exhibition, renting an audio guide this time. The narration speaks of Bear as “the embodiment of that old slogan: art for art’s sake.” He toiled for decades without caring what the public thought; he scorned money; he dedicated himself to a singular vision.

Why, Marsden wonders, are these myths still recited about artists? It’s probably lucky that Charles never became a painter in public. They’d have demolished him. Rather, they’d have ignored him. He lacked the personality, which is so much more important than any audio guide dares say.

Instead, this one cites “the erotic absence of the Life-Stills,” noting that “from the sixties onward, a frequent claim against Bavinsky—strenuously denied by the artist—was that he was an aesthetic reactionary, and to some, a misogynist.” But, it hastens to add, Bear redeemed himself in the purest way: through art, as shown in “the undeniable humanity of his Faces series.”

Marsden smiles. Bear gains his glory in the end! Though this isn’t quite the end. There’s fifty years hence, one hundred, five hundred, all diminishing toward that everlasting instant when nothing by human hand remains. But today, Bear is triumphant: strangers speaking his name, estimating his prices, dreaming of his objects on their walls.

For a minute, the crowd clears. Marsden is alone in the room, standing before Pinch’s paintings and Natalie’s pots. He urges his eyes to hurry, to absorb this, to save this sight.

Gradually other visitors drift in. He takes a last glance around, presses “Play” on the audio guide, and proceeds toward the exit. “From these masterpieces, Bear Bavinsky speaks,” the narration concludes. “Even today, even beyond the grave—from these paintings, truly, we know him.”