September 11, 2017 In Memoriam Michael Friedman (1975–2017) By Sadie and Lorin Stein Michael Friedman. It was surprising, when we searched the archive, to discover that Michael Friedman published only one piece on The Paris Review Daily: a response to the Metropolitan Opera’s staging of The Death of Klinghoffer. It surprised us because over the years we’d talked about his doing so many different things, on so many different subjects, from a column on new music at Le Poisson Rouge to an online version of an informal seminar he held known as Michael Friedman’s Drunk Music Appreciation Class. As his obituaries amply demonstrate, Michael had other—and arguably more important—things to do with his time. When he died on Saturday, at the age of forty-one, the theater world lost one of its most vibrant and versatile talents. When someone dies, we’ve been known to describe him as “a friend to the Review.” Usually what that means is a regular contributor to our pages, or perhaps a material supporter of the magazine. Michael was neither. But in every sense, he was a true friend to the Review. He certainly gave his effervescent presence and restless, quicksilver intelligence to our events; as a theater veteran—not to mention a mensch—he knew the importance of showing up. And he was a friend, period. He was the best. No one wanted to have to write any of these tributes for him. He deserves them all.
September 8, 2017 In Memoriam “Plainness in Diversity” By John Ashbery John Ashbery. Photo: Lynn Davis This week, in memory of our longtime contributor John Ashbery, we bring you a selection of his poems from our archive. Read More
September 7, 2017 In Memoriam “Korean Soap Opera” By John Ashbery This week, in memory of our longtime contributor John Ashbery, we bring you a selection of his poems from our archive. Read More
September 6, 2017 In Memoriam “Soonest Mended” By John Ashbery This week, in memory of our longtime contributor John Ashbery, we bring you a selection of his poems from our archive. Read More
September 5, 2017 In Memoriam “America the Lovely” By John Ashbery John Ashbery. Photo: Lynn Davis This week, in memory of our longtime contributor John Ashbery, we bring you a selection of his poems from our archive. Read More
September 3, 2017 In Memoriam John Ashbery, 1927–2017 By The Paris Review John Ashbery. Photo by Lynn Davis. We are very sorry to hear of the loss of our admired and beloved contributor John Ashbery. I don’t know what the poet that I am is, very much. I was rather an outsider as a child—I didn’t have many friends. We lived out in the country on a farm. I had a younger brother whom I didn’t get along with—we were always fighting the way kids do—and he died at the age of nine. I felt guilty because I had been so nasty to him, so that was a terrible shock. These are experiences which have been important to me. I don’t know quite how they may have fed into my poetry. My ambition was to be a painter, so I took weekly classes at the art museum in Rochester from the age of about eleven until fifteen or sixteen. I fell deeply in love with a girl who was in the class but who wouldn’t have anything to do with me. So I went to this weekly class knowing that I would see this girl, and somehow this being involved with art may have something to do with my poetry. Also, my grandfather was a professor at the University of Rochester, and I lived with them as a small child and went to kindergarten and first grade in the city. I always loved his house; there were lots of kids around, and I missed all this terribly when I went back to live with my parents. Then going back there each week for art class was a returning to things I had thought were lost, and gave me a curious combination of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. —John Ashbery, The Art of Poetry No. 33