I first became aware of Andrew Wyeth in the 80s when the news about the Helga pictures broke. I loved what I saw of those paintings and I read a little about Wyeth and his father, N.C.
I am not saddened by his death – I am always amazed by people with the emotional capacity to feel connected to strangers, even if they share an intimacy with their work – but in reading about him now and his place in the artistic canon (ugh), I’m sorry he is dead.
I would take one Andrew Wyeth over 300 Jeff Koons any day of the week.
Furthermore, I’ve always admire what I perceived as his simple, dedicated life. Living out in the country, working every day, quiet, surrounded by nature. I don’t really know about the truth of his life, but I will say, for me, as a teenager, it was an ideal that I kept in the back of my mind as a model of good living.