From left, Andrew Perchuk, deputy director of the Getty Research Institute, Frederic Tuten and Steve Martin. The image behind them is Roy Lichtenstein’s painting that appears on the cover of Tuten’s book. Credit: Jobe Benjamin / The Getty Research Institute
The N.Y. Times reported that an onstage conversation between the actor and writer Steve Martin and interviewer Deborah Solomon went so awry that the presenter, the 92nd Street Y, offered $50 gift-certificate refunds to all 900 people who had attended.
The problem, as the paper reported it: “According to Mr. Martin, viewers watching the interview by closed-circuit television from across the country sent e-mails to the Y complaining ‘that the evening was not going the way they wished, meaning we were discussing art.’”
Kind readers, I was not at that event at the 92nd Street Y. But I did see Steve Martin discuss art on stage not eight weeks ago, and I can tell you what it was like.
It was terrific.
I admit, the events were different. In New York, Solomon talked alone with Steve Martin on stage. What I saw was an event at the Getty — an art museum — and featured two authors, Frederick Tuten and Martin. Tuten read from his already released “Self Portraits: Fictions”; Martin read from his not-yet-released novel, “An Object of Beauty,” and then the two of them sat down with Getty Research Institute’s Andrew Perchuk, who threw out questions to keep a free-form discussion going. Both books dealt with art; the conversation touched on art, artists and the business of collecting art — there were slides projected above — as well as their books and writing.
Here’s the thing: There were times when the conversation faltered, or doubled back; once or twice what seemed like an interesting avenue for questioning came and went, unnoticed. But that’s OK, it was still terrific — because it’s a conversation. How often, in our public discourse, do we get to hear an intellectual discuss ideas on the fly? How often to we get to see the wheels turning and sparks flying? We don’t. We don’t get that much at all.
