Eulogy

By James Rosenquist

LEO CASTELLI'S death is an exclamation point that ends an era. In 1958 I walked into 4 East 77th Street, New York City. A slight man in his 40s was hanging paintings in a 23-ft. by 24-ft. room. This room became the showcase for a number of young, bold American artists. I, a former billboard painter, was one of them. Leo brought an Old World appreciation, but an understanding of the American spirit, to New York City and the world. In the late '50s and '60s, with his first wife, Ileana Sonnabend, he discovered Rauschenberg, Johns, Stella, Lichtenstein, Bontecou and others. I had joined Bellamy's Green Gallery, but Leo brought visitors to my loft, including the famous collector Count Panza di Biumo. In 1964 I joined the Castelli Gallery and had my first show with Leo in 1965, with my 86-ft. painting F-111. Leo placed young artists' work in good collections and in museums throughout the world, even if he didn't make a big commission. He favored artists more than collectors and offered them stipends. He had a real zest for life. After he collapsed in 1976, the art world thought he was done for. But I'll never forget seeing Leo a year later at the Beverly Hills Hotel pool, proudly standing in his tiny swimsuit among the bikini-clad starlets--despite a new pacemaker visible under his chest.

--JAMES ROSENQUIST, artist