Recalling artist as a young man
Reading “It’s Not Just Any Brillo Box” [Aug. 7] brought back to me a memory from 1949 when I worked in a book publishing house in New York, where I met artists seeking work designing book covers. It was the policy to have them wait in the outer office until called. I recall a 19- or 20-year-old Andy Warhol — with a sheaf of brown red hair across his forehead and brown rimmed glasses — waiting patiently for his turn. I would assure him his chance would come and he was very patient.