The CJM Blog

By Dan Schifrin
, Director of Public Programs and Writer in Residence It’s not often that one visits a contemporary art installation, opens up the comment book, and reads the following: “First of all, I am a broken vessel, a victim of abuse, and I am in the process of healing.” Or: “Today, June 8, makes 7 years since I lost my wife.” Other entries include promises to help the environment, or work with local schools to improve the quality of education.

By Dan Schifrin, Director of Public Programs and Writer in Reside nce Not every boy dr eams of growing up to write cartoons for The New Yorker , or books for child ren. But I did. In high s chool I often brought on e-panel cartoons into my English class, hoping that my witty reference t o Kafka and S hakespeare would boost my popularity (sadly, I only got extra cr edit, which at 16 seemed quite the b ooby prize). Growing up with a younger sister, for whom I often improvised stories, songs and sometimes e ntire musicals, I felt it was theoretically possible to invent stories as strangely rich as those written by Hans Christian A ndersen, Isaac Bashevis Singer and Shel Silverstein. It was later in life when I realized that one man , William S teig, had managed to create both canonical cartoons and children’s books, as well as a museum full of drawings evoking the absurdity and pathos of life. William Steig, "I got my first haircut at Ditchick's Barbershop," fin...