He didn't write a professional word until he was 40. Jerry Saltz turned to driving a truck after a failed career as an artist (his CB handle was the Jewish Cowboy). When he turned to writing, Saltz did it with a vengeance. In 2018, he received the Pulitzer Prize for criticism.
Saltz's new book, "Art is Life," is a showcase of why he received that prize, a compilation of columns written over the past 22 years, a perfect (and accidental) reflection of the 21st century.
It's a collection where Saltz calls Robert Rauschenberg the American Picasso, that Philip Guston reinvented the sublime and recalls Beauford Delaney, a great black artist in his day who's now all but forgotten.
As one of fewer than a dozen paid art critics (Saltz's own calculation) left in the U.S. in the era that's seen the dramatic decline of print, Saltz is senior art critic for New York magazine. He covers the ever-changing New York art scene with flair and abandon.
But, as he told Steve Tarter, he's a creature of the Midwest, growing up in suburban Chicago. In his book, Saltz relates being a teen drawn to the protests during the tumultuous 1968 Democratic National Convention held in Chicago. When folks saw Chicago police clubbing white kids rather than people of color that's when "my right-wing stepmother and all her friends turned against the war," he wrote.
Art is like a movie, Saltz told Tarter. "There's no right way to look at a movie or art. There's no way to prove that Leonardo Da Vinci is better than the calendar art you have in your house," he said.
"The story that art is telling you (is something ) you already know," said Saltz.
Undeterred by changes in print media, Saltz encouraged people to view his Instagram account where he regularly posts pictures, "weird politics and naughty things, as much as I can."
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