Today is Harry Jackson Day in Wyoming. He would be 94 today. This is an old photo of him with Helen Frankenthaler and Clement Greenberg at his one man show at Tibor De Nagy. I remember him as a brilliant, infuriating, ornery old bastard who lived one of the most colorful lives imaginable. He deserves far more recognition in the art world than he currently gets. And now that I am officially on the board of the Harry Jackson Institute, I look forward to helping him get that recognition that he has earned. The art world is too restricted in its ability and even willingness to accept artists as nuanced, contradictory, and unpredictable individuals. Ultimately the current failures of the current art world are that it views artists as brands, too often associates commercial value with quality, and likewise conflates an artist's 'coolness' or ironic distance with substance. This blinds the power brokers in the art world (critics, curators, gallerists, collectors, etc....) to the many wonders to be found in artists like my father who produce sincere work and refuse to be boxed into categories and other people's expectations or judgements. I am proud that my father never went gently into that good night. (at New York, New York)