I met Jeffrey and Jonathan when I was starting out in the art world, right out of college, 22 years old, and it was immediately apparent to me that they were mavericks in the most quiet sense; they seemed to shun the spotlight, and anything that drew attention away from the art they showed. I worked at 70th and Madison, and on lunch hours, would go into their gallery, and they’d show me the most amazing art, but always in a humble way. They looked like identical twins even more when they were younger. They had a way of speaking slowly, their eyes twinkling, often moving back and forth, almost swaying, as if finding rhythm in their words. I felt as if I went into a trance sometimes listening to them. They seemed inseparable.

When Jonathan was sick, Jeannette and I rented a small casita in Santa Fe, in August, so we could spend time together. Jonathan and Thedea’s rented home was a mile or so away. My daughter, Isabelle, was only eight months old. She’s now 34. Jonathan invited us to a BBQ at his home, and though it was early August, a few inches of snow had fallen, and continued to fall, and we had the BBQ anyway, grilling in the snow, laughing at the absurdity of life. There was a sense of making magic out of little moments.

Back in NYC, there was an opening at ACA in the Fuller Building on 57 and Madison, and Jonathan made a dramatic entrance; he wore a black tie. He was thin from treatment for his cancer, and had a big smile as he walked sturdily into the room. He wanted to show people he still had a kick in his step, a glimmer in his eyes, a zest for the moment, an appreciation of the love of his family and friends.

I remember Dr. John singing at his wedding, on a boat chugging around Manhattan. There was always the feeling of elevating the moment into what it could be.

I knew Jonathan better than Jeffrey, but felt Jonathan living in Jeffrey, just as when I visited the Chelsea gallery recently, I felt both their presence in their kids. They live on.

It’s beautiful that their vision, of an art world of inclusion, regardless of race or gender, is now our moment. They were several steps ahead of nearly everyone. They’d be happy to see Kamala, speaking the truth, hopefully slaying the dragon to democracy. I’d love to talk with them about Kamala, and how their artists are shining so brightly now.

The art world is better for the lives, vision and energy of Jonathan and Jeffrey.

I will think of both of them today, when I take my cold plunge in the river along the Rio Grande trail, after biking, on a cool, crisp, sunny day, before showing at my booth in the fair. Jonathan would have said, “Far out, man…Let me shake your hand on that…I like your grip…I like your energy…good for you, man.”

Sending love,

James