38
Peter Beard (New York, 1938 - 2020)
PETER BEARD
€ 20.000 / 40.000
Estimate
Peter Beard
PETER BEARD
(New York 1938 - 2020)
Untitled
1993 ca.
mixed media on envelope (Indian ink, watercolor, colored pen, stamps, postage stamps)
23x32.5 cm
on the upper left side in blue ink inscribed "Peter Beard, Driftwood Cave / PO BOX 603 / Montauk Point / LongIsland / N.Y 11954 USA / North America"
in the center in purple ink inscribed "To Mr. Mathew Riva / @Millbrook School / millbrook / New York 12545"
on the recto five stamps "Montauk, NY / OCT 4 1993 / US PO"
on the recto five postage stamps "Harriet Quimby Pioneer Pilot / USAirmail 50"
Provenance
Gift of the photographer to the present owner
[…] The first time I met Peter I was six years old, fresh off the boat from London and he was still married to Cheryl Tiegs. He wanted to show me Fifth Avenue and convinced my father, his agent, friend and manager for many years, that this was a splendid idea. Not long down the road he spotted a $100 bill in a drain and fished it out and let out one of his signature explosive laughs. My feet struggled to keep up with his pace as he walked me to FAO Schwartz, where he bought me a huge stuffed Gund elephant.
PB has many sides to his personality and was known for the holistically extreme way he lived, but he was also kind and never talked to me as if I was a child. I became his collage assistant early on. He lived with us at our house for what seemed like months on end, often bringing the after party from Studio 54 with him.
Before heading to school I would find him by the front door guarding it armed with a Bic pen. Up went the sleeves and soon crocodiles, elephants and lions decorated my arm from my shoulder to the back of my hand. Always the practical jokester/instigator, PB would send his girlfriends to pick me up from my all boys school, Allen-Stevenson, (right from class to make a scene) or he’d try to catch me off guard with his endless game of ‘door knob’.
The more I reminisce, the more the stories fight for superiority. Beard was fearless, had boundless energy, endless creativity and he loved to talk. I’ll miss him eating caviar on Ritz crackers on his pebbled beach below the cliffs, watching out for me like some kikoi-wearing lifeguard as I surfed. I’ll miss his bullshots and steamers. No one sent care packages or a letter like Peter. And although I visited Hog Ranch in Kenya, I’ll forever regret him not being there to show me the country through his eyes.
Matthew Riva on Peter Beard, from an interview by Teo van den Broeke on GQ, April 2020