The rebellious sons and daughters of society met up at their latest East Village hideout, the Bowery Hotel, last Thursday night for the “Art Rocks!” fundraiser. Thomas McDonnel, a friendly, longhaired 21-year-old from the Upper East Side put his bulletproof vests and blank canvasses—made from Kevlar—in some context for me. “They’re pretty blank, but they’re not that blank,” he said smiling, as his taller, older brother (everyone seemed to be related) snapped photos. I asked him what he thought about rock scion Alexandra Richards’ portraits, which were catching the most interest. “She has stuff here? Well, that explains Slash,” he said with a faint smile.
The toast of the night, Richards, zipped through a photo op and bolted for the terrace to smoke cigarettes. I bumped into rock couture guru Michael H., who I’ve seen around town with Keith’s daughters in tow. I looked around at the rock ‘n’ roll “it” crowd: Silk scarves, silver pendant chains worn, and straight-leg jeans.
Why is Keith’s style so influential,still? “Something about heroin talks to you,” he said almost trance like.“You can come up with original stuff, dark, earth tones, distressed.”
As the shifty, percussive intro to Iggy’s “The Passenger” sounded above, I spied Keith Richards’ other daughter, Theo. She was playing possum in a knit hat, wool scarf—and checking out the Slash portrait. What do you think of the work? “I’m not the artist,” she said in a tiny voice. I told her that a lot of people were bidding on her sister’s piece.“They are?” she asked, genuinely excited. “She’s got it, she loves art so much. She puts her whole body into it.” Recognizing their mark, a platoon of hungry-looking photogs marched over, and Theo shot me a dirty look. “I look like crap guys, please,” she said, pulling up her scarf even higher.The paparazzi weren’t having it. “You guys are the future of art!” one cried out.