At my exhibition at Knoedlers’, continue to meet new people and make
new friends. This afternoon I was introduced to Morris Korbel, the
Czecho-Slovak sculptor. He asked to know me and was complimentary about
my work which is much from a fellow sculptor. He is good looking in a
foreign way--wild haired, deep eyed, deep voiced, rather intense and
dramatic in his personality. He told me he was going to Europe in a
week as his wife was there. He said he was intellectually starved, and
must get back for a while to the old world. He said that I should find
I could only live here about nine months on end without going away.
He was, nevertheless appreciative of the generosity and hospitality
of America. “They take their pound of flesh,” he said, “but they are
generous and appreciative in turn. But one _must_ go, and come back,
and go again ...” he said.
He admitted that he went to Europe this time with some reluctance, as
he had planned to go to Mexico where he had a portrait order to do
President Obregon. I suddenly had a vision ... “Are you definitely
_not_ going to do that order?” I asked him. He said he thought not.
“Then will you hand it on to me...?” I saw my new road mapped out
before me. Korbel did not say a great deal, he probably thought I was
not serious or that it was not practicable. “The Mexicans are not
like the Bolsheviks--” he said warningly. (One up for my friends the
Bolsheviks!! Even reliability is only a matter of comparison--!)
He asked me to lunch with him tomorrow at the Ritz and then I will
pursue this thing further.