Wallace & I -
by Tosh Berman

My first introduction to the world of the arts is when a grown-up (always a suspicious lot to a young tot) asks me if I was going to be an artist just like my father. My dad usually got irritated when he overheard what was basically a simple question – which seems to happen on a regular basis at the time. But the question is anything but simple or basic: when you come right down to it, it’s an inquiry in how does one follow the steps of such a genius like my father Wallace Berman? The simple answer to a basically ‘almost rude’ question is ‘I never think about it.’ And to this day I haven’t thought of it. And I am sure my father never thought of it either. Although I gather, others have thought of it.
Although one usually hears the ugliness and the failure of living with the artist, but in this case the artist - my father - was a rather pleasant man who happened to be an artist with a lot of admirers, as well as a darn good dad. I was blessed to be raised by a Father and Mother who stayed together and loved their only son. So in a sense I was raised in a world where the family unit was falling apart, but my folks stayed together in a very strong traditional family mode. Others were not so lucky; yet the general press at the time made it sound like my Father was the kingpin of a drug art ring. Which come to mind sounds great. But the true story is much more mundane with a side touch of glamour with people falling down drunk and being able to have a front seat to the great currents of modern art and pop culture during the late 50’s and 60’s.

From BLASTITUDE #13: http://tinyurl.com/cr5dy
The Wallace Berman page at UBUWEB:http://tinyurl.com/9rmma
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