Gerard Joseph Malanga is an American poet, photographer, filmmaker, curator and archivist.
Born in the Bronx, New York, Malanga graduated from the School of Industrial Art in Manhattan and attended Wagner College on Staten Island. At Wagner, he befriended one of his English professors, Willard Maas and his wife, Marie Menken.
Andy Warhol and The Factory
Gerard Malanga was Warhol's assistant from 1963 to 1970 and as an actor, had lead parts in many of his early films. He danced with the Exploding Plastic Inevitable, Warhol's multimedia presentation of the Velvet Underground. Malanga claims to have created some of the works attributed to ... more »
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Gerard Malanga Poems
Mark Rothko …
The parade of wrongdoers long since gone to their graves and the streets have been emptied and their stories have spun out and ended, mostly forgotten, in the most mundane of ways
Days of Rome
Days of nothingness Days of clear skies the temperature descending Days of no telephone calls or all the wrong ones Days of complete boredom and nothing
Alphonse de Lamartine returns to the fam...
Gone are the sounds of the passing landaus the barn cats the cypress allée gently swaying at noon the open French windows the gossamer branches the sky never more blue
Edgard Varèse unawares in New York
He certainly wasn't thinking "the emancipation of dissonance," as Schöenberg put it, slouched as he was, rumpled tie and all from someone across mimicking Evans if it was Walker Evans in those grainy black & white nights with the El rattling home
Comments about Gerard Malanga
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Mark Rothko …
The parade of wrongdoers long since gone to their graves
and the streets have been emptied
and their stories have spun out and ended, mostly forgotten,
in the most mundane of ways
over subterfuge, greed, and the attempted usurping of justice.
… and now he sits deeply absorbed in his thoughts
as he'd done many times past, in the colors on colors,
and consumed by his demons
near the Boat Basin Central Park West
when the sky turned overcast with that wintry 4 o'clock hue.
The sun thickly veiled. The few
birds that had landed and then gone to rest.