Michael Goldberg conceived of art as a dialogue, not only between the artist and his vision but also between the artwork and the viewer. His early paintings speak volumes, layering texture and images, swathes of paint brushed, scraped and spread on the canvas, energetic marks that sound like jazz and look like a busy New York street seen from above. In his later works, the architectural compositions start to show through; paint is applied with no less vigor, but channeled with more supervision, transforming frenzied lines into muscular forms, bursting with conversation.
“Either you find that you’re behind the times or ahead of them. It doesn’t matter. What matters is your own times.”
Goldberg is often described as a second generation Abstract Expressionist; however the Bronx-born artist began carving out his place in the canon when he started painting in 1939 at the age of fifteen. At the age of seventeen, he began studying under Hans Hofmann until the outbreak of World War II in 1942 when he became a paratrooper in the United States Army and earned a purple heart for his service—an honor befitting of the man described by so many as immensely generous, gregarious and formidable. Upon returning to the states, Goldberg continued to study under Hofmann and participated in Leo Castelli’s groundbreaking Ninth Street Show in 1951. For a short time, Goldberg exhibited under the name Michael Stuart, a pseudonym he quickly dropped before his first solo show at Tibor de Nagy gallery in 1953. In the late 1950s, as painting trends diverged and hard-edge minimalism began to rise, Goldberg remained committed to his style and continued to paint gestural, abstract works. For the next fifty years, he charted his own path, falling in and out of favor with critics who seemed unsure of how to categorize him, all the while remaining steadfast to his vision. In 2001, six years before his death from a heart attack, he affirmed, “Either you find that you’re behind the times or ahead of them. It doesn’t matter. What matters is your own times.”
Photograph of Michael Goldberg taken by Robert Vogele
Robert Vogele met Michael Goldberg in the 1970s, and the two shared an instant connection. Goldberg’s paintings were about the visual and sensory experience, and Vogele was a receptive and open-minded observer. Correspondence between the two tells of a friendly relationship, with Goldberg eager to share his new work and Vogele planning the details for his next visit. In one letter from 1977, Vogele writes fondly of a trip to Goldberg’s studio and enclosed a portrait of the artist standing in front of one of his new paintings. He jokes about the photo, saying that he has included it “…in case you want to send it to your Mother.” As a collector, Vogele valued the relationships he made with the artists whose work he admired, and looking through his carefully kept records, one gets the feeling that that they are turning the pages of a scrapbook. Newspaper articles, exhibition catalogs, postcards, and snapshots reveal him as a friend and a patron, who thoughtfully followed Goldberg’s life and career even after his death in 2007. Of their relationship, Goldberg recalled that, “Underneath Bob Vogele’s unassuming character is a bubbling excitement and joy. He really cares deeply about visual experience, and I’ve always felt that the acquisition of works of art was entirely a secondary consideration. He has always responded to what I’ve considered ‘difficult’ works of mine, and I’ve found his taste and response a pleasure—I don’t see enough of him.”
Michael Goldberg defies classification. Often described as a second generation Abstract Expressionist; the Bronx-born artist began carving out his place in the canon when he started painting in 1939 at the age of fifteen. He had finished high school a year earlier and enrolled in classes at City College. His foray into collegiate life was short lived, however. More interested in the Jazz clubs near campus, Goldberg started skipping classes and promptly dropped out. At the age of seventeen, like many of the leading artists of the time, he began studying under Hans Hofmann. After the outbreak of World War II, Goldberg enlisted in the United States Army as a paratrooper and earned a purple heart for his service—an honor befitting of the man described by so many as immensely generous, gregarious and formidable. Upon returning to the states, Goldberg continued to study under Hofmann and participated in Leo Castelli’s groundbreaking Ninth Street Show in 1951. A regular at the Cedar Bar in New York, he was known for having involved conversations about painting and for telling epic tales from his past. Needless to say, he befriended many artists who also frequented the famed watering hole including poet Frank O’Hara who would become a lifelong friend and occasional collaborator.
