FINDING A HOME
Craig, who was gifted but uneducated in the who’s who of the art world, hadn’t a clue who Donald Judd was. He introduced himself, at the same time wiping his flannel shirt across his eyes: “Hi, sorry to make such a scene. I’m Craig Lendskip. I make sculpture myself, or at least that’s what I call it since I really don’t know if constructing balls out of twine would be considered sculpture in New York. I just moved here from Darwin and this is the first museum I’ve visited in my life, and to see such a remarkable piece right off the bat caught me kind of off guard.”
“You moved from Darwin, Australia?”
“Heck no. Darwin, Minnesota. I’m glad you can’t tell, my new landlady said I’ve got a real strong accent. Anyway, sorry about that scene, I just couldn’t help myself.”
“That’s quite all right. This sculpture also has a very special place in my heart. I’m glad it was the first piece your virgin museum eyes got to see, it must have been meant to be. It’s nice to meet you, Craig Lendskip from Darwin, Minnesota. I’m Donald Judd from New York City.” Judd then waited for what he expected would be another strong emotional response from the young man when Craig realized that he was the person who had made the sculpture.
But Craig simply said, “Nice to meet you. You must be knowledgeable about sculpture since you already know this piece. I guess it’s by a very famous sculptor to be in such an important position. I actually only know of one sculptor, David Smith. That’s why I came to the show. He’s supposed to have some pieces here.”
“Yes, I do know quite a bit about sculpture, and I am a fan of Mr. Smith’s. In fact I do sculpture myself. I’m happy to walk with you and discuss some of the pieces if you like. We could start with Mr. Smith’s monumental work. It’s the finest sculpture in the show, in my opinion.”
“Great! Even though I’ve been sculpting my whole life, I really don’t know a lot about other artists’ work. Would you like to see one of my pieces? Mr. Judd, right?”
“I would love to see one, but please call me Donald.”
With that, Craig Lendskip pulled out of his heavy overcoat one of his latest creations he had just finished that morning. He was still keeping it close so he could marvel at his work. A very delicate piece, it was a ball within a ball, all constructed out of common twine and Elmer’s glue. The entire sculpture fit easily in the palm of Craig’s hand. The inner ball was a solid piece of very fine twine that was encased by another ball of slightly coarser twine with little octagonal windows just small enough that the inner ball couldn’t escape, yet one could clearly see the inner ball in all its glory. “I call this work BALL BEARING. I particularly like this piece as it can make a neat noise.” As Craig said “noise,” he started violently shaking the sculpture and a small dull sound rang from inside as the inner twine sphere smashed against the sides. “Once the glue hardens a little better, the pieces should ping like a well-tuned tractor engine, thus my title BALL BEARING.”
“That is marvelous!” exclaimed Judd, who was truly impressed with the young man’s creation. “How on earth did you make such a wonderful object?”
“Well the inner ball is just finely woven twine. It takes quite a while to get the yarn this thin and requires the majority of the time needed to make the piece. The outer piece is much coarser twine and Elmer’s wood glue. The hardest part was getting the outside ball’s little eight-sided windows just right and to make it thick enough so you can get the desired noise out of it without it falling apart. It takes a lot of practice to get it perfectly round. And layers of glue. In two weeks, it should really ring when you shake it hard.”
“How long have you been making these sculptures?” Judd inquired.
“Let’s see, about 13 years, give or take.”
“Either you don’t show your age, Craig, or you started very young.”
“I began sculpting when my father had me mentor with a great artist. I was barely seven, and have been working at it every day since then.”
The obviously stunned Judd looked at what was clearly a remarkable individual who was at this point unknown to the world and was also working in a medium no other artist could have imagined. Judd then asked the question all artists ask of other artists: “Where are you currently showing your work?”
“Um, I did show in Mr. Johnson’s barn, but I don’t have a gallery. Do you know of any that might be interested in my little balls of twine? I know they’re different and probably not very sellable?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, Craig, I do have connections and I’m sure they would be very interested.”
“Really? You like what I’ve made?”
“Oh very much. It’s quite unique.”
“Donald, I want you to have my little BALL BEARING. I’ve always wanted to share my work, so please take this. You are the first artist besides Mr. Johnson that I have given one to, and being a fellow sculptor, I can’t imagine it will ever find a better home.”
“Craig, that’s a fantastic gift. If you don’t mind, the only way I would feel right is if we did a trade. I will get you one of my little sculptures for your collection. It only seems right.”
“That’s great,” said Craig. “I don’t have any art yet other than my own and a David Smith poster. It will be exciting to see what kind of sculpture drives you. I’m sure I’ll like it.”
“Yes Craig, I’m pretty sure you will, it will display nicely against your Smith poster….”
With that the two went on to explore the rest of the show.
The next week, Craig Lendskip discovered who Donald Judd was. Donald had a smaller version of the same sculpture they had both experienced in the Guggenheim delivered to Craig. Its value exceeded that of his father’s farm, though Craig would never sell it.
Judd made introductions on the behalf of Lendskip and by the next week Craig was part of a great little gallery just off Park Avenue. A total of seven days in New York City and Craig Lendskip was showing at a very good gallery and had a Donald Judd sculpture that came with Judd’s personal phone number. Not bad for a farm kid from Darwin, Minnesota. But New York City has a way of seducing artists, and overwhelming them too. Nothing Craig Lendskip had experienced in his sheltered Midwest life was going to prepare him for what was coming his way.