‘We have many stories about the New York School’s beginnings, and a few about its endings, but fewer still about what happened in the middle, those decades when you move through life preoccupied with the task to hand: what to paint, what to write, what to work on. And there is Grace Hartigan, stomping along.’
On a spring day in New York City in 1960, Grace Hartigan, then 38 years old, took the train uptown to visit Winston Price, a young scientist from Baltimore, and a new collector of her work. To anyone who saw her on the subway, she wouldn’t have looked like a painter; ‘when I go out,’ . . .
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