Ed Paschke 1939–2004

A few years ago, I procured some tickets from a friend at Steppenwolf to see a one-night-only performance honoring Allen Ginsberg, who had recently passed away. A number of jazz musicians like Kurt Elling and Fareed Haque were setting Ginsberg's beat poetry to music. The only low point of the evening was Ed Paschke reading "Howl." The poem's title tells you everything you need to know about how to read it: put on your muu muu, squat over a bongo drum, and fucking howl your brains out. Paschke, which I'm sure seemed like a clever choice at the time, read the poem as if it were instructions on how to program your Tivo. He even did what any good actor will tell you is death for any line—exhaling before speaking. In this case, he sighed before muttering "Howl" at the very beginning. Reading the poem seemed like an imposition on him. I'm sure he didn't see it that way, but that's what it sounded like.

I'm very glad Paschke stuck to painting, because his paintings kick serious ass. I prefer his work from the 1980s, which I think typifies the colors and textures that are most notable in his work.

Paschke is a very important American artist and one of the most important artists to ever call Chicago home.

In honor of the painter, not the orator, a moment of silence for Ed Paschke.