Eye Eye, Cap’n
Welcome to the, Um, 1970s
If women from the 1830s were so “willing” to raise a dozen kids and be dependent in every way on a man, don’t you ask yourself, why they are not still doing this (“‘Ho’ Down,” The Mail, March 2)? We women have more options now, and we like that because we hated the way it used to be. And may I add that any man who fights over a woman is fighting for his ego, not for her? We women know it and disdain it. We women do not want to be the chattel of men, or on a pedestal, so you can admire us as we rot in our cage. We want to be free to use our bodies, our minds, our imaginations, and our spirit just like you men do. Think that’s immoral? You go live a life of the kind of dependency you tout and let us know how you like it. Don’t forget the corset.
I just wanted to drop a few lines expressing how beautiful your cover story about Van Freeman was (“20/20 Vision,” Feb. 23). I was overwhelmed at the talented writing of the author. Overwhelmed by how lovely the photographs in the article were. And how extremely inspirational Freeman’s artwork and life story truly is.
My belief is that visionary artists are the true prophets of today’s day and age. And reading such an amazing article makes me miss the wonder that is Baltimore—a city so full of talented art and artists that it still blows my mind. If you have never been to Rebecca Hoffberger’s American Visionary Arts Museum, go tomorrow. Things like this museum and City Paper are reasons to still have faith in the city that believes.
Christi A. Newman
I enjoyed reading the article on visionary artist Van Freeman. Kudos to Edward Ericson Jr. for discovering Van’s age—a secret he would have never told. Freeman’s gallery/home is open to the public and he can be reached at (443) 872-7230. In addition to the museum-sized pieces highlighted in the article, Van has produced a multitude of smaller, yet exquisite, hanging sculptures—most costing under $100. In fact, Freeman sold over two dozen such items at a recent Lutheran Center show in downtown Baltimore.
Gone But Not Forgotten
You have no idea how shocked I was to see or read a piece about Val Stoecklein, one of the best musicians of the 1960s (“Sad and Gone,” Music, Dec. 29. 2004). I was a student at the University of Kansas in 1966 when Val and I first met. I was a kid of 17 and the Blue Things were my heroes. In Kansas at that time it was paramount to having a relationship with one of the Beatles. I was from Dallas, but Val nicknamed me “Tennessee.” At 17, I listened to Johnny Cash, Hank Snow, and Johnny and Jack. Val could play the best version of “I Still Miss Someone” I ever heard. In the twilight of my life, Val Stoecklein is still shining. I love him and his music.
812 Park Ave.
Baltimore, MD 21201