Harnett-Hargrove

-Being Red Skelton. 

Three memories with Hats:

1. There was usually a group of musicians over for the day or the fortnight blasting looped tapes out the second story window to see the street walkers reactions. These guys, judging by the sounds they crafted, majored in the most compelling + wonderful feedback imaginable. One handsome devil was obsessed w/ Einstein on the Beach at the time. We’d have parties depending on what we wanted to score. For instance; The Hat Party. People invited would know hats were mandatory. Eventually everyone would get drunk + a sea chapeaus would be left behind. Voila. +, if it ever got too weird, i could always crawl into my loft + pretend i didn’t know what was happening. 

 2. i went down to see the opera production director w/ a hat in question pinned together, mocked up to the nth detail. Upon seeing it, he ripped it apart verbally + shredded it literally. Humiliated, i came back up stairs to the craft room where Charles was huddled over a balsa block pining a turban. He glanced at me sideways for a moment + caught the mortified shock on my face w/ the hat draped over my arms in pieces. He offered, Oh, I forgot to tell you he’s in a snit today.  From Charles i learned of the blind nuns at dawn stitch.

 3. Manhattan winters are slap-in-the-face cold. Turning up toward the sun to warm our faces, we walked along planning a trip to the flower mart. We carried three regular coffees from Chock Full of Nuts steaming into the chilly early morning air. Heading down to the Bowery we traversed Union Square where we recognized the huge pile of fabric as Evelyn. She embodied a fashion statement by building a hat ornament day to day. If you had the time, you would notice that she added a bit of this or that to her chapeau everyday until her headpiece became too heavy. She’d have a two day break + then begin the building ritual again. She inhabited a homeless dingy heap moving from this place to Washington Park on quieter days. Kyle + i had been paid in cash for a restaurant installation the day before, so life was good. i casually handed Evelyn a twenty dollar bill + coffee as we passed her in the park. Her frosty breath rose from the lifeless pyre into the crisp air. When she bolted + came chasing after us, we didn’t know if she was in trouble or if we were.