Francoise Gilot
Sometime during the Fall of 1965, I received a call from an acquaintance that a woman wished to come to my
loft to meet and talk with me. Since the acquaintance was an elderly millionairess who sponsered many actors,
writers, and painters, with a liking for me, I had to accomodate her.
The reason sounded flimsy to me, but the timing was right. I was used to getting propositioned by various
females, mostly hustling ones who wanted something--usually photos of themselves. I didn't have any money.
All I was told was that she was French, a painter, though older than me, still attractive, and I would find her a
person of interest.
It must have been around 9:00 PM when she arrived (alone), and after walking up three flights of steps, she
was not winded. Surprise. Very calm and sophisticated and gracefully tall. She had an air of affluence about
her.
I offered her my famous chair and a glass of wine. I had no music playing because this was not a
rendezvous--it was a social meeting. After a few words of introduction and sparring, she asked if I would play
Coltrane's "My Favorite Things" just like that! I was very surprised; she didn't look the type--too upper crust.
It is a track that runs for almost 14 minutes and it's not for everyone, but she listened intently to every note,
making snobbish comments about its simplicity and repetition, etc. and that she was dissappointed because
she had heard so much about it.
Now, when she said that, she was finished right then and there with me!
I had been looking at her thoroughly while the music was playing and she was definitely not my type--too old,
no sexuality--but I knew she was not an ordinary gal. At the time, I was going with the first "black bunny" at
the Playboy Club, so you know how my tastes ran.
I didn't offer her any more wine and she sensed the evening was over... She politely arose and gave me a
phony little smile, thanked me, and floated out the door, never to be seen again.
Only at a later date was I informed that she was Fracoise Gilot, one of Picasso's ex-wives!
Then the realization hit me. Not the first time I turned down fame for love.
Robert Doak '10
loft to meet and talk with me. Since the acquaintance was an elderly millionairess who sponsered many actors,
writers, and painters, with a liking for me, I had to accomodate her.
The reason sounded flimsy to me, but the timing was right. I was used to getting propositioned by various
females, mostly hustling ones who wanted something--usually photos of themselves. I didn't have any money.
All I was told was that she was French, a painter, though older than me, still attractive, and I would find her a
person of interest.
It must have been around 9:00 PM when she arrived (alone), and after walking up three flights of steps, she
was not winded. Surprise. Very calm and sophisticated and gracefully tall. She had an air of affluence about
her.
I offered her my famous chair and a glass of wine. I had no music playing because this was not a
rendezvous--it was a social meeting. After a few words of introduction and sparring, she asked if I would play
Coltrane's "My Favorite Things" just like that! I was very surprised; she didn't look the type--too upper crust.
It is a track that runs for almost 14 minutes and it's not for everyone, but she listened intently to every note,
making snobbish comments about its simplicity and repetition, etc. and that she was dissappointed because
she had heard so much about it.
Now, when she said that, she was finished right then and there with me!
I had been looking at her thoroughly while the music was playing and she was definitely not my type--too old,
no sexuality--but I knew she was not an ordinary gal. At the time, I was going with the first "black bunny" at
the Playboy Club, so you know how my tastes ran.
I didn't offer her any more wine and she sensed the evening was over... She politely arose and gave me a
phony little smile, thanked me, and floated out the door, never to be seen again.
Only at a later date was I informed that she was Fracoise Gilot, one of Picasso's ex-wives!
Then the realization hit me. Not the first time I turned down fame for love.
Robert Doak '10
