Did you know? Robert Wilson’s love of chairs began one Christmas.
When I was 8 years old, I went to visit my uncle, who lived in the White Sands desert in New Mexico. He had a white adobe house, and he lived like a monk. It was very simple: a mattress on the floor and a Navajo blanket and some Native American pots.
There was one chair in this small house, and I said to him, “That’s a beautiful chair.” And at Christmas, he sent me the chair for a Christmas present.
It was thin and narrow, a wooden chair. This chair was very important. As a very young man growing up in Texas, usually I got a shotgun or cowboy boots for Christmas. When I was 17 , my cousin — my uncle’s son — wrote me a letter and said, “My father sent you this chair, and it’s mine, and I’d like it back.”
I sent it back to him, and from that day on I started collecting chairs. I do still collect chairs.
Images courtesy of the Watermill Center and Robert Wilson.
Hope you had a lovely holiday!