The Floor Sanders: Peter Moore 68/69

Robert Streicher
October 2019

In 1968 peter moore placed community above craft for a fierce rendering of what it actually felt like to be there. or, because the materials he used worked best in the shadow of a harsher reality?…But, we all compromised in that extended crowd, during that tirade of cultural togetherness that marked the “speed-ball growth” of an era: One that placed freshness above mother, if need be.

we knew it when we saw it in “68-69”, and watched peter moore catch it with bad light: as we caught his act which was catching ours.

the warm and fuzzy documentor, could be seen in any and every dingy small loft, rooftop, alleyway, parking lot, church, tunnel, or ferry,… catching that whirl of new talent that seemed drunk with innovative tension on every minute of every day and in any space.

our world was a world separate, exclusive, and departed from the earth for a couple of saintly years. (maybe even 10)?

we all swirled in large clusters, around and through those empty alleyways of a scary and forbidding soho in those two years. where muggings and silent darkness forebode of a new york that could be actually dangerous in the pre-Giuliani days.

…yet, we still screamed, danced, and whooped like cranes our way down every dingy cavernous industrial cobbled stoned street of those canyons: where dancers, painters, or musicians might live in a 3000 sq-ft space for less than $150 a month (if you fixed it up?)… but when your neighbors were echos of desertion at midnight, and kicked cans heard far and near.

smelly art bars, cheap polish restaurants, katz’s deli , broome st. tavern, were all attended,…after, some either significant or below par performance, gallery opening, or dance concert, which buzzed our perked ears… it could be anywhere: al helds, dekoonings (if you knew edwin denby), meredith monks, or paula coopers gallery…or, any party, show, or happening, which burst forth in our electric growth.

…or, that (relic function) of abundant space we took for granted in “68-69”- “the floor sanding party”- where we all bonded as specialized “art-hawks” on the make. and did “the dance of death” till 4am- documenting it all as we danced: like that fetish “chronicler,” peter moore.

now, when most of the 500 galleries in chelsea feel the chill of recession and a “the party’s over mentality” (and maybe it is?)…..peter moore at coopers, brings us back to a charm based on “the best of the day”-along with some lesser talents of those blossoming years…who splashed and squeezed their way into that small elite world of “68-69″…  people like, charlotte moreman, claus olderberg, meredith monk, steve reich, yvonne rainer, kenneth king, bill dunas- (an older merce and john as invisible statesmen) – along with the opposing rauchenberg (judson) faction, and countless crazy others, in that cross-bred performance orgy.

…this was when jill johnson thought the dance stopped dancing, and that all you needed was sneakers and pants to get in. ( tops not necessary).

…peter moore reminds us of this and something else in his crude, skinny, and grainy 60’s “black and whities” )…of the younger and more committed creative movers who had not yet become shakers by “68”: some would explode as others wouldn’t-within this transient art mythology called, “modernism”. which can only take a stab at history with certitude.

…but, it was the greatest party i had ever been too, and it lasted through the 70’s as “Thrilling” in my youthful dance-life.

but stop!… and feel it all at paula cooper’s intimate showplace on east 23st, where peter moore’s photography exudes the rawness of those unsanded floors and their debaucheries, at its most innocent and powerful beginnings: with pictures of people being artists and together (as community)… at that point of celebration when living and making careers and art, was an oxygen that coincided with a powerful america: one ready to take it all “on”-or-“off” at a moments notice.

don’t expect mapplethorpe or sherman. there’s no attitude here: but rather, a natural museum of older artists being young and in their time…where you’ll find your way through the bones of all the arts (as one). and, determined by a protean youth.

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Robert Streicher comes out of the vital New York Dance scene in the 70’s and 80’s, Mr. Streicher took his place as a seminal dance figure when he moved away from the reductive monochromaticism (so pervasive at the time) and into a new renaissance of narration. Streicher turned to paint in the later 90’s, and has proceeded experimentally with his postmodern hybrid canvases with the same authentic voice, which had marked his innovative choreography.

 www.robertstreicher.com