Unwrapping the Mystery of New York’s Wrapper — Francis Hines by Hollis Taggart

HINES

UNWRAPPING THE MYSTERY OF NEW YORK’S WRAPPER —

FRANCIS HINES ESSAY BY PETER HASTINGS FALK MAY 5 TO JUNE 11, 2022

521 WEST 26TH STREET, NEW YORK, NY 10001

3Fig. 41. Francis Hines wrapping stacked wooden chairs in 1978.

FOREWORD

Francis Hines was a successful and accomplished commercial illustrator in the 1950s through 1970s, and achieved sufficient financial security that allowed him to keep homes and studios in Connecticut and New York, where he devoted his time and attention to producing an astonishing body of work in various mediums. That collection remained in his Connecticut barn until his death in 2016, never to be seen by the general public. Although Hines did exhibit a few times in New York galleries, especially at the Vorpal Gallery from the mid 1980s until 1997, he was never interested in the commercial gallery world by itself, and had no ambitions of being placed on any pedestal. Hines had developed a reputation early on as a “wrap” artist whose most famous project was the wrapping of the Washington Square Arch in 1980, which was quite a spectacle at the time and placed him alongside Christo in the pantheon of “wrap” artists. The works in this exhibition relate to Hines’ late years, when he quietly and industriously worked on his own in both studios. Hines was fascinated with creating tension through linear forms of fabric stretched and embedded into the wooden supports of his paintings. The result was unique works, unlike anything seen before, that express energy and a kinetic quality distinctive to his process. Hines was an abstract expressionist artist with a unique twist. In his paintings one senses a genuine,

authentic, and untainted visionary who made art for art’s sake. He never pursued the commercial art world. Upon his passing in 2016, he left behind an extraordinary body of work, which we are proud and pleased to bring to light — something that never happened in his own lifetime! The brilliant and elucidating essay by Peter Falk will explain in greater detail how this body of work was almost lost entirely, save for the diligence and perseverance of a car mechanic named Jared Whipple, who intuitively knew this was important work that needed to be saved. The story behind the rescue of these works, literally from a dumpster, is worthy of a great Hollywood movie. We hope you will enjoy the discovery of the lost works of Francis Hines, another in a long line of overlooked but highly deserving artists of the past. It is our pleasure to represent these fascinating paintings, collages, and sculptures. We especially owe gratitude to Peter Falk, who brought this estate to our attention, and to Jared Whipple, the hero who saved this body of work and the artist’s legacy from being lost forever. We also thank the Mattatuck Museum for mounting the recent spectacular exhibition of Francis Hines; many of those works are included in our current exhibition. These works are on view in both our Connecticut and Chelsea galleries simultaneously.

Hollis Taggart

3Figs. 1a,b. The barn with studio in Watertown, Connecticut, that Hines leased for decades was emptied in September 2017. At right, the paintings being carefully removed from the Dumpster and loaded on a flatbed.

4Fig. 2. The Washington Square Arch, shortly after the wrapping was completed in May 1980.

UNWRAPPING THE MYSTERY OF NEW YORK’S WRAPPER —

FRANCIS HINES PETER HASTINGS FALK

RESCUING A LIFETIME OF WORK

Francis Hines received critical acclaim more than four decades ago, so how could it come to pass that his life’s work wound up in a Dumpster? After all, his powerfully evocative images were created in a uniquely innovative style and technique that had no precedents. Finding the answer prompts us to examine the gauntlet through which artists have been required to run in the pursuit of recognition — a challenge that has not changed since the mid nineteenth century. The odds against artists have always been great, but among the most common reasons for becoming forgotten is the destruction of large bodies of work. Topping the list are nature’s offenders: fires, floods, and storms. Major fires have consumed hundreds of artists’ studios in

every city throughout our country’s history. Human nature is the other culprit. Addiction to drugs and alcohol have cut short the lives of some brilliant contemporary artists — from Basquiat to Pollock — but the prevalent result is the ignominy of the Dumpster, not mythic status. A host of different reasons have catalyzed artists to withdraw altogether from the gallery scene — if, in fact, they had ever been a part of it. Some are irascible characters, at odds with the world, who chose not to exhibit their works. Many have led double lives, working a traditional job by day and creating art by night. The struggle to achieve financial stability often leaves neither the time nor desire to compete for recognition.

Hines’ chapter in American art history was nearly lost forever because of a legal deadline for emptying his barn studio in Watertown, Connecticut. For a full year following his passing in 2016, no manageable solution was found for the care and storage of his collection. Then time ran out. The landlord quickly expedited the disposal process with a Dumpster. Ever since the Dumpster was invented during the peak of the Great Depression it has served as the most convenient waste receptacle for facilitating the annihilation of a life’s works. Nick Weber, the artist who shared studios with Hines in Manhattan for fifteen years and refers to him as his mentor, said it was not surprising that his friend later slipped into obscurity. He explained that even though Hines left New York City awestruck for one week in 1980 with his spectacular wrapping of the Washington Square Arch in 8,000 yards of white polyester fabric, his creative pulse was never driven by ego. Just a month after his collection was rescued from the Dumpster, the New York City Parks Department featured Hines’ Washington Square Arch masterpiece as one of the “Top 10” most memorable public art installations in the city’s history. No one ever connected that coincidence with the artist’s passing, so no one wondered whatever happened to him. No one ever thought to ask if a collection had ever been left behind. “He fell through the cracks,” declared Weber, “because he had to fall through the cracks. The cracks are the only place where unconditional creativity

exists. His work had touched a power unrecognizable to the commercial art world — a world which itself is so corrupt that it took a car mechanic to sense its inherent value as it lay in a Dumpster, and then rescue it and reveal it.” 1 That car mechanic was Jared Whipple. A new episode in his life began the moment he gazed into a huge Dumpster filled to the brim with paintings. He saw the paintings as breathing life, begging to be saved from being buried alive in a landfill. They had a story to tell. He couldn’t escape the sinking feeling that he was looking into a 7,000-pound iron coffin. That issue became even more poignant when he entered the artist’s studio on the second floor of the huge barn. He saw that the artist had freely sketched and written notes on the walls, as if he had left behind important clues to be discovered. For these reasons Jared was certain about rescuing the paintings and letting them

3Fig. 3. One of Hines’ illustrations for B. Altman, 1958.

breathe again, if only on the walls and ceilings of the indoor skateboard park he was building. Without any art history training, Jared had just passed the “innocent eye test.” But his more pressing concern was the cultural imperative that it was simply wrong to trash a lifetime of creativity. Whipple’s arrival ultimately proved to be at the eleventh hour. The disposal contractor confessed that in the preceding days he and his team had filled the Dumpster twice — mostly with large heavy metal sculptures—and carted them to the dump. Those loads had already been processed through a huge crusher machine and were buried in a landfill. Fortunately, all the artist’s paintings and even a group of sculptures were rescued. Whipple never intended to become an art detective, but after identifying the artist as Francis Mattson Hines, years of research followed, gradually revealing fragments that allow us to tell one of the most compelling discovery stories in American art.

Tragically, the bulk of some artists’ collections that have faced destruction have disappeared forever, perhaps with only a few surviving works in museums and archival evidence in photographs and writings that were left behind as tantalizing testament. For museum curators, historians, and art dealers who routinely compare an artist’s works with those of their more well-known peers, any definition of “quality” focuses on true innovation and significance along the historical timeline and keeps clear of that which is slavishly derivative. In this light, Hines was on the

endangered species list as a rara avis in the art world. The Dumpster usually wins these cases, consequently consigning artists’ accomplishments into obscurity. Rare are the stories of a significant artist’s collection being rescued, reappraised, and given due recognition. This is one of them.

THE UNCONDITIONAL CREATIVITY OF AN ARTIST’S DOUBLE LIFE Francis Hines was fortunate to have achieved a measure of financial security by balancing a steady income-producing job with the innovative side of his life in art. He accumulated enough wealth to eliminate any pressing need to canvas the galleries and subject himself to the disappointment of possibly finding rejection and humiliation. More important, his financial stability allowed him to follow a spiritual path in art without being interrupted by the usual day-to-day external noises. He was allowed to meditate, to consistently do deep dives to discover his true creative self and then reflect his visions in his art. He never conformed to a trend in painting just to make money. In short, he felt no obligations to pursue the mainstream commercial market. Hines was an outsider. Born in Washington, D.C. in 1920, Hines attended the Cleveland School of Art as a child and continued there through his college years. In 1943 he served in World War II in the Photo Reconnaissance Unit for Military Intelligence in the U.S. Army

for its avant-garde performance and installation art. However, Hines not only lacked the desire to follow up with self-promotion, but his financial success had insulated him from that ever becoming a pressing need. After retiring from commercial illustration, Hines purchased a condominium on 11th Street at West Street, in 1976. At the same time, he moved his family from Ridgefield to Watertown, Connecticut, where he rented the large barn that served as a studio. He redoubled his commitment to long days of intense creativity, and the barn became the repository for all his art. In 1977 he also took a studio at 325 Bowery at the corner of 2nd Street in NoHo. Corps of Engineers based in the His studio loft was located directly above China/Burma/India theater. At the end of the famous jazz club, “The Tin Palace.” the war he settled in New York, working Besides attracting great jazz musicians, as a freelance artist and was briefly the club’s regulars included famous poets; married. This period marked the beginning and, among the artists were Joan Mitchell, of his double life as commercial illustrator Robert Indiana, Larry Rivers, Robert Frank, and a painter of both abstract and and the recently rediscovered Michael figurative expressionism. He remarried Goldberg. Regularly performing upstairs in 1949 and a few years later moved to in Hines’ loft was the duo Black Music Hartford, Connecticut, where he held Infinity — saxophonist David Murray and the position of chief commercial artist at drummer Stanley Crouch. Although Hines G. Fox & Co., then the largest privately held remained reticent about art dealers, his department store in the country. From the wrapped sculptures were shown at the late 1950s to the early 1970s he lived closer Stewart Neill Gallery in SoHo between to New York and achieved continued 1977 and 1981. Around 1984 he met success as an illustrator, especially Muldoon Elder, the owner of the Vorpal of interior architecture, design, and Gallery in SoHo. Elder, who is also a 2 furnishings. For more than twenty painter — and therefore quite unlike any years, he pursued his double life as a other art dealer — called Hines “a true successful commercial illustrator by day artist who pulled no punches.” The gallery and an abstract painter by night. In 1965, would represent Hines until its closing in he was given a solo exhibition at the 1997, after which Hines no longer had much th Smolin Gallery on 57 Street, best known interest in finding another gallery.3

4Fig. 5. Man Ray, Enigma, 1920, wrapped sewing machine, 13.5 x 24 x 13.5 inches.

UNWRAPPING OTHER WRAPPERS

Figs. 4a-b. Both untitled oils on canvas shown here from 1962 are of the style exhibited at the Smolin Gallery. An untitled abstraction of a group of figures standing in water (47 x 71 inches, signed lower right). Another untitled group of figures (36 x 60 inches, signed lower right).

5 6

There are not many wrappers in 20th century art. Christo [1935–2020] has emerged as the most famous but he was not the first. Few may be aware that the original wrapper who inspired Christo was Man Ray [1890–1976]. In 1920, Man Ray wrapped a sewing machine in a blanket, bound it in twine, and called it L’Enigme d’Isidore Ducasse. During the 1920s he and other Dadaists and Surrealists in Paris — such as Dali, de Chirico, and Magritte — also included wrapped objects as enigmatic elements in their paintings, thereby making their subjects unclear or even disconcerting. The history of wrapped objects then jumps forty years to Christo

wrapping empty paint cans in his Paris studio in 1958. By the 1960s he and his wife, Jeanne-Claude, had wrapped objects such as a motorcycle, a Volkswagen, an uprooted tree, and a woman. In 1964 they moved to New York for good, and by 1975 had completed all their concept drawings for wrappings even though most projects would not become realized until many years later. This explains why the style and technique of Christo projects remained so consistent, from their first building wrapping in 1968 (of the Kunsthalle in Bern, Switzerland) to his posthumous one in the fall of 2021 — the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. Hines explored sculpture during the mid-1960s when he began embedding numerous found objects into a series of diorama-like wall hangings featuring historical figures dutifully wrapped in tin foil and various fabrics. “It was not long before the wall constructions evolved into free-standing pieces,” wrote Sondra Ross, his wife. “Often these constructions consisted of plaster female forms contained in box-like enclosures, effecting an eerie sensuality capable of moving and disturbing even the most casual viewer.”4

5Fig. 6. Hines created this construction of three standing

upholstered figures in 1967, setting them within black shag rug niches, approx. 72 inches tall.

Both Christo and Hines prompted viewers to reappraise form and space — lending surprisingly new sculptural qualities to architecture. Both invited viewers to experience a structure’s physical form but their approaches to wrapping were

3Fig. 8. Hines’ first bound building facade, at East 10th Street, New York, 1978.

the role of artist as social activist, this was the interpretation presented in the newspapers. The media’s reaction to this

unique and immense wrapping must have caught Christo’s attention. After all, Christo’s several proposals to wrap buildings in Manhattan were rejected, including one for the Museum of Modern Art in 1968.

5Figs. 7a-b-c. Hines’ first public wrap, in 1978, was of an abandoned building on East 10

Street between Avenues C and D. Associated photos: An assistant helps to keep the fabric taut; a preparatory pen & ink wash drawing from 1978. th

strikingly different. Christo was a conceptualist, a visionary who emerged from the Dadaist tradition of Man Ray. He covered structures in translucent polyethylene sheets and then bound the whole mass with ropes. The final wrapped bulk suggested the identity of the original form, but its three-dimensional volume was simplified into its basic mass. Hines, on the other hand, emerged with a completely new approach to wrapping that was distinct from that of Christo. Hines’ pursuit was aesthetic, not conceptual. It was not

about loosely wrapping up a form. It was instead about tightly weaving diaphanous synthetic fabrics into geometric patterns and stretching them over a building’s facades under hundreds of pounds of pressure. Hines was the only artist to ever wrap a building in Manhattan. His first, in 1978, was a run-down tenement building on East 10th Street between Avenues C and D in the East Village. He wrapped 1,500 yards of heavy white synthetic gauze fabric over its

façade, creating a powerful sense of tension within a symmetrical pattern. There was also an inherent tension in the dangerous neighborhoods where he chose the abandoned buildings, inhabited by drug addicts and controlled by gangs. Because this building had been slated for demolition, the media interpreted his purpose as drawing attention to the socio-economic plight of the neighborhood. While Hines was not trying to play

Hines’ second building wrap, in 1979, was also of an abandoned tenement building in the East Village. This one was at 605 East 5th Street, and he again used a heavy white gauze fabric, weaving across the entire structure. The newspapers again described the project as advancing a socio-political purpose. Hines later clarified, “The wrap has nothing to do with any social statement. I’m interested in the enormous energy that takes place when these forms are under the tension of binding.” 5

THE WASHINGTON SQUARE ARCH AND OTHER WRAPPINGS IN NEW YORK Hines’ wrappings of buildings in Manhattan brought international attention and he was asked to propose a wrapping for Milan, Italy. He declined, however, later explaining that the reason was that he considered himself a very New York-oriented artist. In this spirit, his third New York wrapping was his masterpiece — the Washington Square Arch. In 1979 Hines was approached by Evelynne Patterson, director of community relations for New York University. She explained that the great triumphal arch had long been victim to the larger graffiti blight, which had spread through the city in epidemic proportions. It was in dire need of cleaning, and a funding campaign was underway. “We’ve worked for five years to find a solution to the arch graffiti problem in order to call attention to the terrible condition of this monument, and in fact all monuments in this city,” 6 she said. To add insult to injury, early in 1980 a careless film crew had unlawfully painted a large area of its base in silver paint as a backdrop during a shoot for a Marilyn Monroe movie. 12

5Fig. 9. Washington Square Arch: aerial view of the completed wrapping. 4Fig. 10. Washington Square Arch: detail shot of the stretched fabric.

In May, Hines directed a team of twenty-three women and men, many of them artists, as they set to work weaving eight-thousand yards of synthetic white fabric over the whole arch. After stretching and crisscrossing each long piece of fabric into a geometric pattern, the fabric ends were tightly secured around thick iron loops at the base and anchored with heavy

5Figs. 11a-b. Sequential views of the Washington Square Arch during its wrapping. knots. The completed work not only left the public awestruck but even surprised Hines. In the PBS documentary that followed, Patterson Sims, then curator of the Whitney Museum of American Art, asked Hines if he was pleased with the huge project. “After the second day of wrapping,” Hines replied, “after night had fallen and it was dark, I could see what was starting to happen, and it started blowing my mind. It was almost as if I hadn’t done it at that point. And with any good work of art you should, I think, have that feeling...that something other than you had something to do with it...with your conscious planning mind and the whole thing.” Hines then paused and added, “I knew it would be conceptually successful, but I’m not a conceptual artist. I knew that being conceptually successful

was not going to be enough...There’s already enough confusion with Christo, so I knew that sort of thing wouldn’t be particularly helpful.” 7 Clearly, Hines’ aesthetic objective of inserting tension into pattern was, in spirit, far from Christo’s conceptualism. Instead, Hines found a greater kinship with the works of geometric sculptors employing the tension of linear forces. The work of Richard Lippold [1915–2002] is a good example even though his medium (gold wire) was quite different. During the 1950s to the 1960s, Lippold stretched myriad gold wires fanning in tight geometric patterns to produce monumental hanging constructions, most of which are now installed in major institutions, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

5Fig. 12a. Members of Hines’ team

Fig. 12c. Hines’ team atop the arch pulling the fabric and tying it to a cable system similar to the one at the base. hauling on the white fabric and tying it to base cables. Maximum tension and control of the 8,000 yards of fabric was maintained by steel turnbuckles placed at pre-determined lengths on the cables between the legs of the monument’s pylons.

3Fig. 12b. This shot of the arch during the wrapping process also provides a poignant view of the Twin Trade Center Towers.

5Fig. 12d.

Hines used a walkie-talkie to coordinate the teams at the roof and base of the arch.

4Fig. 14c. In 1983, Hines’ Celebration in Flight, in red fabric, was suspended near Alexander Calder’s large mobile at JFK International Airport.

5Fig. 13a. Francis Hines, Police Cars, Union Square, 1980.

5Fig. 13c. Hines drew this bird’s eye view

of the installation plan for Union Square on June 6, 1980. He projected the installation would have taken place in 1981.

3Fig. 13b. Immediately following his wrapping of the Washington Square Arch, Francis Hines developed other project proposals for public wrappings and installation. The most ambitious, but unrealized, was that for a major installation at Union Square, inscribed: Looking Southeast, Flagpole base in foreground, George Washington right, Lafayette in background, Lincoln off left, June 17, 1980, signed lower right.

Much of the artistic momentum for projects of monumental scale in the 1970s can be traced to the Earth Art movement of the late 1960s. This approach merged Minimalism and the environment, using the natural landscape as the medium. Michael Heizer [b.1944] turned a large expanse of the Moapa Valley on Mormon Mesa near Overton, Nevada into Double Negative in 1969. Most famous is the Spiral Jetty, created by Robert Smithson [1938–1973] in 1970 at the Great Salt Lake in Utah. The movement was named in 1969 after its first museum exhibition — Earth Art — at Cornell University, inspiring other artists such as Richard Fleischner and Walter de Maria. During the mid 1970s, Gordon Matta-Clark used abandoned buildings as his medium and his projects were distinguished by huge holes cut into

concrete walls and floors. His last project, Circus or The Caribbean Orange, was completed just before he died in 1978 — just a few months before Hine’s first building wrap. Hines had transformed the Washington Square Arch into an exotic modern cathedral. Only ten days after unwrapping it he pursued other public wrappings. He produced a large series of project drawings as proposals for wrapping each of the monuments in Union Square Park but they were unrealized. However, in September 1980 he wrapped two Bound Police Cars there. In 1981 he installed Suspended Sculpture in the New York Port Authority Bus Terminal. He then performed an unauthorized “guerilla wrapping” of a section of the old Westside Elevated

5Fig. 14a. After Hines’ bold plan for Union Square did not materialize, The New York Times featured his next public installation. He found in the Port Authority an interested sponsor who allowed him to suspend 800 yards of white fabric under high tension from four brick columns inside the Bus Terminal. Titled Suspended Sculpture, it remained there from October through November 1981.

5Fig. 14b. In 1982, Hines also engaged in “guerilla wrappings”

at various points along the old Westside Highway in Greenwich Village.

Highway in 1982 while it was in the process of being demolished. This time the white synthetic fabric was stretched between the highway’s last remaining massive vertical and horizontal iron girders. In December, 1982, his Celebration in Flight was installed at the JFK International Airport Arrivals

Building in celebration of its 25th anniversary. It was composed of 825 yards of red parachute nylon extending 100 by 50 feet — and was in conversation with Alexander Calder’s nearby 45-foot mobile, .125 from 1957 (later re-named Flight). 8

5Fig. 17. Two approaches to abstract expressionist sculpture: John Chamberlain worked with crushed car parts while

Francis Hines, his peer, wrapped them. Left: John Chamberlain, Nutcracker, 1958, crushed metal, 45.5 x 43.5 x 32 inches. Right: Francis Hines, Bluebird Rear Door, 1982, free-standing wrapped car door within iron rebar framework, 64 x 48 x20 inches.

5Fig. 15. Francis Hines, Intersections, 1979, hanging construction of black nylon stretched over steel rebars, 72 x 72 inches.

CREATING A UNIQUELY DYNAMIC FORCE WITHIN SCULPTURE AND PAINTING 18

envisioned every project and sculpture in drawings — numerous drawings — which he later faithfully followed. His sculptures often began as cages of welded iron rebar that enclosed salvaged Most of Hines’ sculptures were recycled for car parts, which were typically suspended their metal or had become part of a landfill. by wire cables drawn and cinched tightly through shackles and turnbuckles. In Fortunately, fifteen were saved. In addition addition to car parts, he also wrapped to the collection of paintings, hundreds of other objects such as chairs, stools, large drawings and archival photographs were also preserved. After reviewing these tables, and mannequins. In one video he described one of his sculptures of materials, the artist’s process, mission, a wrapped mannequin: “I began this and trajectory became clear. Hines was a about forty years ago [in the 1970s] in a meticulous and prolific draftsman. He first

figurative way. The actual mannequin of a female body that was involved in a kind of booth — in a cage of its kind — and this has always been a theme that has involved me, both in drawing and construction...When you entrap energy there is a static quality that occurs. Within that static quality there is a tension coming from that object that is being bound, and by the binding itself creating tension — and all of the energy occurs within that tension.” 9 It was through tension that Hines lent architectonic force to abstract expressionism. “My building wraps are larger forms of what I do in the studio,” he clarified. The first sculptor to elevate car parts to sculpture was John Chamberlain [1927–2011], the abstract expressionist who in the 1950s merged colorful crushed bumpers, hoods, and other parts into unique forms. Another significant use of cars as sculpture occurred in 1974 when Ant Farm [1968–1978] created Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, Texas. This group of architects half-buried ten old salvaged Cadillacs in a row — an installation that

5Fig. 18. Francis Hines, Study for Bluebird Front Door, 1982, graphite and acrylic, 26 x 20 inches.

has become iconic in pop culture. Hines’ approach to sculpture was to create power objects. One writer aptly noted “the repeated constricted anatomical elements that pervade the artist’s work, accompanied by the succession of ropes, cable, wrapping, plaiting, and layering of fabrics. This dizzying repetition and complexity are at the heart of Hines’ dynamics of fetishism. One senses the

5Fig. 19a. Francis Hines, Yield, 1982, free-standing wrapped Yield sign within iron rebar framework, 64 x 48 x 20 inches.

5Fig. 19b. Francis Hines, Study for Yield, 1982, graphite and acrylic, 26 x 20 inches.

investment of libidinal energy in the creation of the final piece. The viewer finds himself undergoing a charged experience within a generative space.” 10

Hines’ glorification of wrecked cars extended from sculpture to painting with his Hoboken Autobody series of 1983. Despite the series’ title, he never had to actually trek across the Hudson River to the huge lot of salvaged cars in Hoboken. Instead, he reveled in the numerous abandoned cars right in front of his studio overlooking West Street. The area was littered with cars abandoned after accidents or breakdowns, and they got stripped down so quickly they weren’t worth salvaging. West Street, or “Death Avenue” as it was long known, had a history of numerous car crashes. The fifty numbered paintings in this series range from 3 by 4 feet to 4 by 6 feet and revel in bringing a new approach to abstraction. In his unique technique, Hines continued

5Fig. 21. When Hines created this inter-column installation in 1985 for the

Merrill Lynch offices at the Atrium Complex in Franklin, New Jersey, he used the same type of red fabric as he did two years earlier for Celebration in Flight at JFK Airport.

MUTAGENESIS 5

Fig. 20. Francis Hines, Study for Wrapped Motorcycle, 1982, 26 x 20 inches.

the spirit of wrapping the cars parts by employing strips of nylon gauze that were tightly stretched and then anchoring them into the work’s wood backing. Each painting thus stresses the linear forces exerted within the imagery.

Throughout his career, Hines flexibly alternated between his wrapped paintings, his wrappings of buildings, and his indoor installations. For example, in 1985 he created an installation for the Merrill Lynch building in the Atrium Complex in Franklin, New Jersey. For the next two years he returned to exploring painting, focusing on expressing the sexual

symbolism of women and their inevitable transformation in a world of rapidly advancing technologies. His Urban Icons series — which he referred to as “organic mechanical improvisations” — was a theme pursued by Richard Lindner [1901–1978] in the late 1950s, evoking the anxiety that flares when technology collides with sexuality. Lindner was also a professional illustrator, and he emerged from that role to explore subliminal

3Fig. 22. Richard Lindner, Stranger No. 1, 1958, oil on canvas, 50 x 30 inches.

5Fig. 23. Don ZanFagna, Cyborg Notes No. 64, 1972,

collage with magazine fragments 29.50 x 23.50 inches.

sexual symbolism and gender roles hidden in media and advertising. With a style rooted in graphic design, Lindner’s later images of women became even more disturbing. They are cyborgs, alienated creatures who are clearly part machine, as reflected in their bright metallic colors. By the 1960s, the concept of cyborgs had been made popular by science fiction. However, one of the artist’s sons, Jonathan, recalled that his father strictly avoided sci-fi movies and magazines. Therefore, Hines was probably unaware of the pictures of the apocalyptic alarmists such as the Swiss illustrator H.R. Giger [1940–2014], whose Biomechanoiden series created in 1969 played upon dystopian themes of the relationship between humans and machines. Even when Hines had begun his own exploration of the convergence of anatomy and machine, he was unaware of Giger who by then had achieved acclaim as an illustrator in the sci-fi world owing to his creation of terrifying aliens for the ongoing “Alien” movie franchise.11

Another artist who integrated creativity with futuristic warnings was Don ZanFagna [1929–2013]. His Cyborg Series of collages (1968–1974) serve as “cybernetic metaphors” that focus on the future problems that DNA mixing might cause. They are signals or warnings of things about to go wrong. The artist wrote, “These works incorporate humans and machines, cloning, eco-architecture and landscape, biology and technology and make use of dark humor, skepticism, irony, and futuristic symbolism.” The resulting cyborg environment that ZanFagna constructed shows entities that have lost their humanity and sexuality, but mechanically still reproduce new “humans” replete with nuts, bolts, and robotic controls. The cyborg women in Hines’ Urban Icons series sometimes appear to be prisoners enduring sadomasochistic aggression. In these often-distressing images, he focused on individual females who appear to be in the process of transforming into cyborgs.

5Fig. 24. Hans Bellmer, Les Jeux de la Poopée VI, hand-colored silver print, 7 x 5.13 inches.

Each painting seems to document a stage in a laboratory experiment. By binding the figures tightly with fine nylon fabric, he reinforced the commitment to their transformation. It can take time to discover the disguised distress of the scenes due to their heightened abstraction. More overt is the surrealism of the “Doll Games” series by Hans Bellmer [1902–1975]. During the mid 1930s he was preoccupied with the process of disjointing groups of prepubescent dolls, reassembling their limbs, and photographing the final mutation. More terrifying counterparts in contemporary art are found in the sado-masochistic zipperheads created by Nancy Grossman in the late 1960s to early 1970s, bound and blindfolded in leather head-masks and straps. Even though Hines’ female-centric imagery would endure into the 2000s, by the mid 1980s the Urban Icons Series was superseded by his far more abstract Mutagenesis Series. In this final series exploring the convergence of anatomy and machine, he moved away from those

5Fig. 25. Francis Hines, Organisms, 2014, acrylic and oil pastel on paper, 40 x 27 inches.

uneasy interpretations implicitly rooted in sexuality and instead postulated a unique aesthetic. In this major series he remained resolute in exploring the forces driving the evolution of human genetics. He saw an era when our increasing dependence on both mechanical and digital technology promised to inexorably alter human genetic coding. Although the outcome could have implied a dystopia populated by cyborgs, Hines never took the approach of a sci-fi illustrator. He instead focused on the persistent energy and tension inherent in the evolutionary process of mutagenesis. As a result, his paintings at first appear to be complete abstractions. However, careful observation reveals that the painter was still intuitively expressing what he perceived to be a critical evolutionary stage in the transformation of human to machine. In these carefully structured images, Hines merged machine parts

Fig. 26. Francis Hines, Urban Icon No. 143, 1987, acrylic and oil pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, 68 x 48 inches.

with human flesh — and the image is often wrapped tightly with the same synthetic bands of fabric used in the Hoboken Autobody series. He even took the stance of both anatomist and physiologist, in creating a series of drawings illustrating how Mutagenesis works. Together, this group of drawings can even be seen an appeal to serve as the basis for a futurist edition of the highly influential Gray’s Anatomy. While the subjects of his anatomical drawings look like sculptures wrapped tightly in his signature gauze, he dutifully labels their integral biomechanical parts. Each drawing in the series is entitled Anatomy Chart of a 20th Century Totem and the names of the muscles are carefully documented in Latin. Certain automated parts are suggestively named, such as “headlight (nocturnal eye),”

Fig. 27. Francis Hines, Anatomy of a 20th Century Totem, 1992, acrylic and pencil on paper, 30 x 22 inches.

“optic nerve housing,” “nutritional tube,” and “brake mechanism.” Hines’ compositions in the Mutagenesis series evoke a rare energy and beauty owing to a masterful dance of color, shape, and line that captures our attention. But the overriding sense is the artist’s allusion to a larger fate for humanity that is in the process of unfolding. His images were intended to help us understand the relationship between our bodies and technology. The organic meant flesh, so it appears painted in warm tonalities of reds, oranges, tans, and whites — just as one would see in an anatomy chart. An unconscious tension of vulnerability is created by trapping those organic forms between the hard geometric forms. Because these paintings subtlety achieve a balance between flesh and machine, we appreciate the abstract whole.

5Fig. 28. Chaim Soutine, Le Boeuf, 1923, oil on canvas,

5Fig. 29. Francis Hines, Icon, NY, from the Mutagenesis

Even when human muscles are clearly painted, they smoothly blend with the technological components. Hines had no interest in shock factor per se, as exemplified by Francis Bacon’s 1946 Painting (at MoMA) of a hulking carcass of beef behind a menacing caricature of Neville Chamberlain — or the archetypal Le Boeuf of 1923 by Chaim Soutine, depicting a raw and bloody side of hanging beef.

represents but one element in a unique organism of its own making, an organism that is part biological, part structural and mechanical, part electronic. The complexity of this interrelationship constantly increases with ever-advancing technology among these various elements. Is our basic nature being irrevocably modified to accommodate this condition? These drawings express my response to this universal evolvement. In addition, they serve to stimulate my sculpture. The metaphor for the human or organic is human anatomy; for the inorganic I use mechanical devices. These elements are bound together to create a single cohesive organism, symbolizing the interdependence of the animate and inanimate in the city of the late 20th century.” 12

31.88 x 23.63 inches.

Nick Weber noted that Hines often explained, “I’m interested in nature’s process — not copying it, but doing it, being that process.” In 1994 Hines wrote, “Within the modern city the human animal has become part of a biological/industrial morass, inseparable from the structures and products it creates. Here the human

Series (No. 530), 1987, oil pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

5Fig. 32. Francis Hines, Dialogues, Mexico, 2003, graphite and oil pastel, 22 x 30 inches.

5Fig. 30. Francis Hines, CrossOvers, 2000: Five stacked and wrapped cars installed at The Workers Library & Museum, Johannesburg, South Africa.

CONTINUALLY CAPTURING THE ENERGY OF TENSION

Hines’ public wrappings continued amidst the development of the Mutagenesis series, and in 1988 he created yet another wrapping installation called Flight. It was composed of 3,500 yards of parachute nylon (90 by 40 feet) in the atrium of Tower Center Two in East Brunswick, New Jersey (PNC Bank building). In 2000, Weber and Hines moved to 99 Canal at Forsyth Street in Chinatown. Their studio was formerly a Chinese sweatshop. The next year, at 81 years old, Hines created his last major

public wrapping, in the Newtown section of central Johannesburg, South Africa. He stacked five salvaged cars in a pyramidal form and wrapped them in his signature synthetic fabric. The project, called CrossOvers, was located on the grounds of the Workers Library & Museum.13 During the next ten years he continued to produce large sculpture at the Canal Street studio along with numerous hardpoint pastels inspired by an orthopedist’s MRI images (magnetic resonance imaging), which he called “Biomechanical Assemblies.”

5Fig. 31. Francis Hines, Study for an installation, 2000, acrylic and pencil on paper, 30 x 22 inches.

In 2010 Hines’ wife, Sondra, suffered a stroke. She had been an essential force throughout his career, organizing his projects and their teams. Hines dedicated one of his catalogues to her, declaring that “without her talent and devoted work much of what I’m about would never see the light of day.” Paralysis had left her without speech or the ability to walk, and their son, Jonathan (also an artist) cared for her until she passed away in 2013. As Hines continued to push into his 90s, Nick Weber became more concerned about his friend’s artistic legacy and occasionally asked about the works stored in the country barn in Connecticut. While typically avoiding such inquiries, Hines finally turned to Weber and emphatically stated, “Just worry about where you store yourself! Then, when you wake up the next day you can get back to making more art.” Hines exhibited boundless energy working in the studio every day. He continued to push

5Fig. 33. Francis Hines, Organisms, 2014, acrylic and oil pastel on paper, 26 x 40 inches.

5Fig. 34. Francis Hines, Biomechanical Assembly, 2006, 22 x 30 inches.

the boundaries of his Mutagenesis Series by creating two extensive sub-series of large hard-point pastels where biomorphic forms are overlaid by a grid pattern — again entrapping their energy. These were titled Cages, produced from 2007 through 2011, and Organisms from 2012 until just weeks before his death in 2016. The painter Beverly Brodsky spoke of how these series reconfirmed the philosophy by which Hines lived. “Though his research seemed methodical, his brilliant drawings were never calculated. These Organisms, as he called them, were entirely intuitive, as though he was connected to a great mystery or an inexplicable power in the universe which impelled him to push forward and expand.” She added that her friend was passionate about being in the studio every day creating art, passionate in talking about it, but completely lacking any interest in

age ninety-six, the estate had to comply with a tight deadline that was imposed for cleaning out the barn’s contents. When no immediate solution could be found, the contents were deemed abandoned and a trash disposal company was contracted for the task.

becoming promoted in the art market via the bustling gallery scene.14 In a moment of introspection Hines told one interviewer, “The artist is basically a reflection of his time and place. I suppose to a certain extent it reflects the social conditions that have surrounded me, as I have developed through my lifetime — and it reflects how I feel about those circumstances. But I prefer not to dwell on that — and I just love the process of making art.” Indeed, Hines was so focused on creating art in the studio that he avoided dealing with mundane matters such as the entreaties of the barn owner in Connecticut who kept reminding him that the property was being readied for sale. Finally, in 2014 the artist who for decades always chose to ride his bike to his studio had a stroke, but he continued to create. Shortly after he passed away in 2016 at

The authenticity of Hines’ uniquely creative approach is best summarized by the artist who knew him best, Nick Weber: “When art itself is an organic process it is evolution of consciousness made visible. If one becomes the evolutionary process, one is not in a conditioned state of mind.

As a result, our art helps others free themselves. This is in direct opposition to Fascism, a cultural mode of thought inherently bent on cultural homogenization and therefore the destruction of the evolutionary process. One argument posits that the contemporary art world has been under the constraints of a certain form of Fascism that serves to condition the art that makes it to the big stage. However, when art that emerges as unconditioned, untainted, it will spark a higher awareness. That art is dangerous to the system because it encourages a new freedom.”

NOTES 7. Ibid.

1. All quotes from Nick Weber are from several interviews with the artist from late 2019 to early 2020. Weber shared a studio with Hines in the landmark Starrett-Lehigh Building at 601 W 26th Street from 1997-2007. In 2008, they moved their studio to 99 Canal Street, where they worked until 2011. In 2008, Weber produced a music video “Girl Problems Band – Mette” in which Hines appeared at age 88.

8. A video was produced by The Port Authority & Art for Public Spaces, “Suspended Sculpture: An Installation by Francis Hines” — Produced and Directed by Paul Kornblueh and Wendy Roberts. The installation remained in place from Oct 25–Nov 22, 1981, at the Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York. The 1982 Sony National Video Competition awarded it First Place for Documentary. Another video was produced in 1983, “JFK Airport (Celebration Flight): An Installation by Francis Hines.” Hines was commissioned by the director art program for the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey to produce the installations at JFK airport as well as the Port Authority Bus Terminal. That director (from 1962–1995) was Saul S. Wenegrat, who was also a professor at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Wenegrat was also in charge of the art for the World Trade Center’s twin towers. Among Hine’s unrealized installations were proposals for the towers’ lobbies; and later, for the 9/11 Memorial & Museum.

5Fig. 35. In 2008, Weber produced

a music video “Girl Problems Band – Mette” in which an animated Hines appeared at age 88.

2. The Cleveland School of Art became Cleveland Institute of Art in 1948. Hines served in WWII from 1943-46 (In 1957 he was living in Millwood, New York, and was set designer for a play “Ladies of the Corridor” in Chappaqua, New York. The local paper reported, “Francis Hines, as set designer, offered stunning and ingenious backdrops to depict changes from one tenant’s room to another.” (New Castle Tribune, Chappaqua, New York, 12 Dec 1957). From 1960-70 he lived in Ridgefield, Connecticut, where he raised his family.

9. Spelotis, Stephen. Video interview with Hines in 2010. 10. Nahas, Dominique. Silent Disclosures: Selected Works by Francis Hines (privately published ca.2002).

3. Interview with Muldoon Elder, 14 Dec 2021. 4. Ross, Sondra [1932–2013]. Hines/Fabric and Tension (Barrytown, NY: Open Book Publications, 1981, p.9).

5Fig. 36. Francis Hines, Sarah 30

Bernhardt, 1965–69, fabric, lace, and acrylic on board, 72 x 50 inches.

5. “Cityscape Sculpture” The New York Times, 28 May 1979. Hine’s first building wrap of November 1978 was the subject of a documentary video by June Manton, “Cityscape Sculpture by Artist, Francis Hines” — a New York University Film School Production. In 1979 she produced a second documentary video, “Under Wraps, Francis Hines, Sculptor,” which was presented at the Global Village Video Festival and on WGBH-TV Boston. 6. From the televised documentary, “Francis Hines’ Washington Square Wrap,” Patricia Sides, Exec. Producer, PBS, 1982. It was awarded Finalist at the 1982 American Film Festival. References to Evelynne Patterson’s role as the executive assistant to N.Y.U.’s president as well as director of community relations can be found in Fiske, Edward B. “Miracle on Washington Square,” The New York Times, 30 April 1978; and, Horseley, Carter B. “N.Y.U. Program of Rebuilding Drawing to a Close” (The Villager, 15 Feb. 1981). See also: Rack, Yannick. “Cut! Arch Movie Paintjob Preceded Park Renovation” (The Villager, 10 March 2016).

5Fig. 37. This study for a sculpture is one of many where Hines incorporated oil pastel drawings on Arches paper as panels within the sculpture’s structure. (The sculpture was 114 inches long; this study drawing ca.2008 is 22 x 28.5 inches.)

11. H.R. (Hans Ruedi) Giger [1940-2014] created his series of surrealist illustrations called Biomechanoiden (the biomechanical human-machine) beginning in 1969. He became best known in 1979 owing to his work for the first “Alien” movie. He was also a frequent illustrator for Omni magazine, from 1978 to 1995. The term Cyborg — short for “cybernetic organism” first appeared in 1960. By 1980, DC Comics had introduced a man-machine system as a superhero called “Cyborg.” A plethora of human/robots have appeared ever since, often possessing superior strength, senses, and even weaponry — often with bizarre psychological consequences. 12. Ibid, Spelotis. 13. CrossOvers was organized by CrossPathCulture (founded in New York in 1998). 14. From a 2016 eulogy by Beverly Brodsky, one of Hines’ close artist-friends.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EXHIBITIONS

1981: Ross, Sondra. Hines/Fabric and Tension (Barrytown, NY: Open Book Publications, 1981, p. 9).

2021

Retrospective, Mattatuck Museum of Art, Waterbury, Connecticut.

1993: “Twentieth Century Totems on Display” Atencion San Miguel (published by the San Miguel Public Library, p.6, 19 Mar 1993) review of the exhibition of Hines’ Urban Icons series at Galería Atenea. “The lean, strident composition and social content of these wall sculptures and drawings are particularly reminiscent of the work of José Clemente Orozco...Hines combines human anatomical forms with industrial ‘constructions’ in his continuing theme of the fearsome (and often humorous) potential of the humanized machine. Through this fusion of conflicting energies, something new is generated — a kind of totem or urban emblem, a metaphor for the artist’s response to his immediate environment.”

2021

Hollis Taggart Contemporary, New York.

2006

Gallery 384, Catskill, New York (drawings).

1999

Westwood Gallery, New York.

1993

Galería Atenea, Sam Miguel Allende, Mexico “20th Century Totems.”

1990

Vorpal Gallery, San Francisco.

1989

Vorpal Gallery, New York.

1988

Vorpal Gallery, New York.

2002: Nahas, Dominique. Silent Disclosures: Selected Works by Francis Hines (privately published ca.2002).

5Fig. 38. Francis Hines, Anatomy of

5Fig. 39. Francis Hines, Proposed Temporary Fabric Installation for the Hudson River Museum/View Through West Window Wall, 1982, 26 x 40 inches.

exhibition at Vorpal Galleries in 1987 included a large wall installation in red fabric. His wrapped Yield sign wrapped in red fabric (1982) is in the foreground. Behind it is his wrapped car door (1982) and a painting from his Urban Icon Series.

1977–81 Stewart Neill Gallery, 136 Greene Street (ca.1977-81) exhibited the wrapped sculptures.

a 20th Century Totem, 1993, acrylic and pencil on paper, 30 x 22 inches.

5Fig. 40. Hines’ schema for a solo

2017: New York City Parks Dept website announces the celebration of the 50th anniversary of its “Art in the Parks” program with the headline, “A Look Back at 50 Years of Public Art in NYFC Parks” and the sub-headline, “Remember when we walked under 7,500 saffron “gates” in Central Park (2005) — and when we saw the Washington Square Arch wrapped like a giant bandage? (1980).” The New York City Parks Dept also published 10 of NYC’s Most Memorable Public Art Installations, in which Hines’ 1980 wrapping of the Washington Square Arch is featured in the “Top 10.” As part of the celebration, Ai Wei Wei places his cage-like “Good Fences Make Good Neighbors” under the Washington Square Arch, but it is separate and within the arch because the NY Parks Dept states that no art installation would ever touch the monument again.

1965

Smolin Gallery, New York — Abstract Paintings by Francis Hines. Located on 57th Street, Smolin was an avant-garde gallery of the 1960s.

1948

Collectors of American Art, Inc. At age 28, Hines won an art competition at this organization, which was active from around from 1937-1959 at 38 West 57th St. By 1939 CAA had nearly 300 “members.”

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 582), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 35 x 54 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 647), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 36 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 609), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 36 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 694), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 60 x 42 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 691), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood,

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 601), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 36 x 48 inches.

with synthetic fabric wraps, 46 x 62 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 719), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 60 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 963), 1984, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 690), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 72 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 841), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 54 x 74 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 957), 1984, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 65 x 48 inches.

3Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 836), 1984, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 654), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, 5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 853), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood,

with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 64 inches.

with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 60 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 965), 1984, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 63 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 604), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 36 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 1047), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 68 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 1026), 1984, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, 48 x 69 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 848), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 60 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 967), ca.1984, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 1050), 1983, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 68 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 1041), 1985, acrylic on canvas, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 68 inches.

5Untitled, from the Hoboken Autobody Series (No. 1231), 1986, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood,

with synthetic fabric wraps, 52 x 72 inches.

5Legacy, from the Mutagenesis Series (No. 1007), 1988, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 68 inches.

5Untitled, from the Mutagenesis Series (No. 521), 1987, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 48 x 68 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

3Untitled, from the Mutagenesis Series (No. 805), 1986, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches.

5Untitled, from the Mutagenesis Series (No. 154), 1987, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

5Untitled, from the Mutagenesis Series (No. 139), 1987, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

5Fig. 42. Francis Hines, Excavation, 1998, standing construction of painted wood and carved synthetic block painted black and bound in black rope with turnbuckles, 72 x 60 x 20 inches.

5Icon, NY, from the Mutagenesis Series (No. 530), 1987, hardpoint pastel on Arches paper mounted on wood, with synthetic fabric wraps, 68 x 48 inches. Exhibited: Mattatuck Museum, 2021.

This catalogue has been published concurrently with the exhibition “Unwrapping the Mystery of New York’s Wrapper — Francis Hines” organized by Hollis Taggart at its galleries in New York and Southport, Connecticut, and presented from May 5 to June 11, 2022. Publication copyright ©2022 Hollis Taggart Essay ©Peter Hastings Falk All rights reserved. Reproduction of contents prohibited. ISBN: 978-1-7378463-6-9

PHOTOGRAPHY CREDITS: Hans Bellmer, ©2022 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York/ADAGP, Paris, (Fig. 24); John Chamberlain, ©2022 Fairweather & Fairweather LTD/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York (Fig. 17); Liz DeMayo (Figs. 11a-b, 12c, 13a); Ken Hellberg (Figs. 2, 7a-b-c, 8, 9, 10, 12a-b-c-d, 41); Man Ray, ©Man Ray 2015 Trust/Artists Rights Society (ARS), NY/ADAGP, Paris 2022 (Fig. 5); Chaim Soutine ©2022 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York (Fig. 28); Don ZanFagna ©The Don ZanFagna Estate Collection (Fig. 23); All artwork by Francis Hines ©The Warehouse CT, Inc.; Covers and full-page images of Hines’ artworks courtesy Josh Therriault, Get A Grip Productions, Bristol, CT. Hollis Taggart 521 West 26th Street 1st Floor New York, NY 10001

330 Pequot Avenue Southport, CT 06890 Tel: 212.628.4000 Fax: 212.570.5786 www.hollistaggart.com

5Fig. 43. Francis Hines, Dressmaker’s

Dummy, ca. 1890, 1980, bound in black nylon, 60 inches tall.

Copyediting: Emily Chun Design: AM Associates, LLC, Canterbury, CT