Monday, July 20, 2015

On why I choose to look away

In 2012, I went to the Americans for the Arts Awards.  Josh was receiving an award.  I paid $1,000 to attend this event.

There were six of us who were Grobies who knew each other who were there.

The event was held at the Cipriani, across from Grand Central Station.  This facility was essentially one large room that had been a bank at one time, with very high ceilings -- maybe 30 feet high?

In the center of the room was the dining area, which had fancy, carved, wooden partitions separating it from the rest of the room. The partitions were only about six feet tall, not nearly to the ceiling at all.

To the west of the dining area was the area reserved for the people getting awards and performing.

At the entry (north of the dining area), there was a velvet cord across the path to the reserved area.  I was able to talk to Josh's parents and a couple of his high school teachers briefly over the velvet cord.

One of the teachers remarked to me that Josh had always been a wonderful person and had not changed. I did not say anything in response. I truly doubt that being adored by crowds of fans can fail to change a young man.  Still, I suppose he knows how not to appear changed, if he chooses to.

To the east of the dining area was the area for the people who had paid to come to attend this event.

In both side areas, east and west of the dining area, people were served hors d'oeuvres and drinks before dinner.

Then we went in to the central dining area.  The podium/stage was to the south.

Grobies were seated in the northwest corner of the dining area near a sort of window/opening in the partition, which allowed us to see into the area where Josh was.

Gayle, Josh's manager, was standing on the other side of the partition, on Josh's side, right near our table.

Looking through the window, I saw Josh, looking as pale as a ghost, and surrounded by a circle of admiring young women.  I later learned that they were part of a "young artists" group that performed during the awards ceremony.  Josh looked like he was being polite and tolerant.

It seemed to me at the time that this intense circle was an example of something that would change Josh's life.  No really nice person would be able to push through and get near Josh. A nice person would hang back and let rude, aggressive people push forward.  Josh would never be able to meet nice people.

Just outside the circle of admirers was China Chow, in a revealing and stunning green velvet dress. Her expression was inscrutable.  She made herself riveting.  I wondered if she was there as Josh's date.

After a while, my eyes wandered southward, to the left, and I saw a very short woman with dark hair standing at a distance, and smiling broadly at Josh.  Later it was pointed out to me that this short woman may have been Rachel. I can't say whether it was or not.

As soon as my eyes found the short woman, Gayle shouted angrily at me, and perhaps the others, to stop staring.

Someone later pointed out to me that perhaps Gayle had been instructed to prevent us from seeing Rachel.

I reflexively obeyed and went and sat down

Our table was one of the farthest from the stage. I suppose the closer guests had paid more? I made the minimum donation to get in there. I think there was an option to pay more.

Later someone pointed out to me a photo that one of the other Grobies had taken of Josh speaking in front and accepting the award he was given.  In between us and Josh was a table that Gayle was sitting at. At the table with Gayle was the back of a head, a woman facing away from us. The person who pointed out the photo to me felt that this back of head  was probably Rachel.

At the time, I didn't notice that other table -- and I could never say for sure if I saw Rachel before, tho it seems probable that it was she.

After dinner we waited for Josh to come out.  We went back out into the east area and stood and waited for an hour.  Eventually he came out, looking truly ill, and was very nice to us and posed with us for a picture.

I noticed, farther to our east, a line of young women, standing in a raised area that one had to go up a few steps to get to -- so they were above us.  There were at least four of them, maybe more.  One of them was China Chow, facing us and using all her modeling skills to attract our attention to her.  The others were apparently white, and had their backs to us.  They stood in a line, all looking nearly identical and beautiful, and mysterious. It was like that shell game that con artists sometimes play on the streets.  You couldn't tell where the real girl was, if she was even in that lineup at all, which she probably wasn't.

Later, it occurred to me that Josh had hired these people to distract us from figuring out who he was really with.

It was at that point that I stopped trying to figure out who he was with.  I didn't have the motivation to try to penetrate all this subterfuge. I had no clue why he was so very secretive, but I figured it was not worth it to me to find out.

More recently the persistent tweet and Instagram miners have been figuring out some things that might explain his secretiveness. I'm not going to talk about that, because I haven't read all that stuff, and don't care to, tho I read some of it.

i read enough to change my opinion of Josh, for sure, enough to focus back on the music, which is what brought me to Josh in the first place -- and away from the person, a person who I might after all rather not know too well.

******

Tonight, I was remembering something else -- another story. This other story is not directly connected with Josh.  It just came to me tonight, as I was having an extended discussion with someone on twitter about the rumors.

At the college I went to, there was a professor who committed suicide, about 20 years after I graduated.  It turned out that he was a pedophile and all of the stuff he had been trying to hide was about to be revealed.  It was a very sad situation.  He was in some ways a brilliant man with some very good characteristics.

If I recall correctly, this professor had adopted a child who turned out to have fetal alcohol syndrome, and the professor was working with great energy to try to help victims of this condition.

He was an excellent author as well.

I found one of his books later in a bookstore, after he died. It was a book for young teens -- a coming of age book. It was a stunningly good book. I loved it.  It made me sad that the author of this excellent book had died under such tragic circumstances, surrounded by scandal.  I read the book to my kids.

Here's a link:
Sees Behind Trees

I recommend this book. It's excellent.

I don't condone pedophilia at all, but it was certainly connected with some excellent art.

The point -- of my bringing up this story of this other artist -- is that looking at the person behind the art can be fascinating or shocking, but the art is the point, not the artist.  Few people's private lives could stand up to intense public scrutiny.

If intense public scrutiny could destroy the artist, should we be so curious?