Calder wrote this more or less chronological diary of recollections in a few weeks in 1965. At that time he was famous both in Europe and the US, an artist of means with an enormous studio in Connecticut where he prolifically created large stabiles and mobiles. Although chronological, there is no beginning, middle or end in a literary sense, and no real plot. A gregarious man when not working, many recollections are of friends and famous folks of the period, some of which may not be familiar to
Calder wrote this more or less chronological diary of recollections in a few weeks in 1965. At that time he was famous both in Europe and the US, an artist of means with an enormous studio in Connecticut where he prolifically created large stabiles and mobiles. Although chronological, there is no beginning, middle or end in a literary sense, and no real plot. A gregarious man when not working, many recollections are of friends and famous folks of the period, some of which may not be familiar to the reader. Some stories are more intriguing than others.
Note that Jean Davidson is credited as author of this autobiography. Davidson was Calder’s son-in-law, who apparently transcribed recollections delivered verbally.
The strength of the book is in the illustrations and how they accompany the text. Copies of Calder’s own drawings and letters to friends are most interesting and revealing of his whimsical character. Photos include portraits of family and places he lived and worked, as well as his sculpture and jewelry. Most photos are black and white, which works well for his artwork since he worked largely with flat areas of color. This is a large-format book, and quite heavy, weight-wise, for bedtime reading (I read hardcover edition from 1966). Calder doubtlessly was very purposeful in this. He was a large man who “lived large” and needed large spaces in which to work. He needed the large pages to give his enormous sculptures a proper sense of scale.
I enjoyed the images and his childhood recollections very much. Some of his stories from his career as a sculptor are amusing and ironic. However, in too many places the recollections seemed too much like a personal travelogue to be interesting. It was apparently his intent to present his unabridged personal diary, but I think that an editor could have helped him to produce a better volume with fewer words. The images don’t need much help to tell the story.
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