Remembering Richard Merkin

Before I was a student at RISD I was a nude model (I called it "mod noodle") and I would pose accompanied by my dog. Merkin was the teacher for one of the classes. There was a red-lipsticked blonde who brought a white Samoyed to his class. He would smooch her while our dogs barked at each other. It was a funny time.

When I was finally on the other side of the drawing pad, Merkin would stand behind me while I was drawing the nude and slurp his hot coffee in my ear, which always cracked me up and only encouraged him to do it every week in class. He always had silly wisecracks like, "It's tooth hurty; time to go to the dentist!"

Richard supported my artistic vision - we shared a love of graphic design and color and humor in art. When one of the painting teachers who I invited to view my paintings shredded my work, I went crying to Merkin. He consoled me, explaining that not all of his colleagues agree with each other. We talked about the Max Ernst painting, "The Hat Makes the Man." He helped me to get back on track.

I returned to RISD after having followed my boyfriend and his band to North Carolina for a year and a half. During that time I had lost a lot of weight. When Merkin saw me he said, "What happened, I liked you when you were zaftig." He was like a Jewish uncle.

When I graduated from RISD, Richard was angry that I was not planning to move to NYC. "You think people live there because they like tall buildings?" he screamed. I told him I escaped NYC to come to RI and had no intention of going back. I sent out my portfolio to all of the magazines when I was first freelancing as an illustrator, and when I went to retrieve my portfolio from Vanity Fair they said, "Merkin told us to keep it." I was thrilled and honored that he had gone to bat for me!

Recently I went to Richard's gallery in Hudson NY, and they showed me the book of Victorian porn he edited. It was hysterically funny and charming, old black and white photos with air-bushed pubes. I mailed Merkin postcards of my paintings and photos of my Munroe Dairy Marching Band. We spoke on the phone, and he wanted to know if I played jazz, and if I had kids (no on both counts). I really wanted to visit his new studio. I had no idea I wouldn't get to see him again. He was such a fun character. He will be missed.