This year marks 75 years since the completion of the Glass House, Philip Johnson’s transparent masterpiece in suburban Connecticut, nestled off the road within the hilly, arboreal landscape. Among the attendees at its annual Summer Party this past weekend was the artist Katherine Bradford, 82, who donated work to the fundraising auction alongside the likes of Herb Ritts, Cindy Sherman, Beverly Fishman, Bob Gruen, and Chris Wolston, among others. The last time Bradford had been to the property was in her teens, when her mother, a friend of its architect, would phone up Johnson on occasion to ask if she could bring guests over.
“My house had shingles and shutters and a pointed roof,” said Bradford. “And this house… this guy rebelled against almost every other house in the town. This house is unique and so deliberate.” Even at such a young age then, the artist was fascinated with all of Johnson’s “visual decisions,” she says, recalling how his details made her “pay attention to everything else.” Back then, she recalled the iconic modernist architect's relationship with a man, curator David Whitney, his partner of roughly 45 years, “wasn’t discussed,” despite the double bed visible from the yard. (Notably one of the openly gay men in his field. Johnson lived in his see-through yet secluded structure with Whitney up until his death in 2005.)
Bradford’s return to the house coincides with her donation of Swimmers Under Red Moon, 2023, to this year’s auction. It’s “kind of a wonderful feeling,” she continued, “because I think knowing that this existed and having to use my eyes to appreciate it was kind of a breakthrough, early on.”
Around Bradford, guests—including Nikki Glazer, Kristen Kennedy, Theo Pinto, Marie Choi Mannix, Omar Eaton-Martinez, and Rachel Winters, who DJ’ed—many clad in fashion sponsor Max Mara, congregated throughout the sunny, breezy afternoon around the house. On the grounds, they also explored the newly reopened Brick House, a guest house of sorts, as well as the nearby Sculpture Gallery, which displays monumental works by the likes of Michael Heizer, Robert Rauschenberg, and John Chamberlain, and the Painting Gallery, displaying a series by the late Frank Stella.
Throughout the event, a trio of dancers donning flowing Max Mara button-downs over black spandex executed graceful, emotion-filled choreography by Brendan Fernandes. “It's based on the idea of frolicking freedom,” the performance artist explained. “The idea of these bodies supporting each other. The dancers come together, they hold each other, they take care of each other, they fall apart, and then they rebuild again.” In practice, the three dancers, partly improvising, heavily responded to each other’s motions, mostly in the fluctuations of smaller movements of limb and facial expression—though sometimes, in running dramatically, one after the other, across the grass, before re-stationing themselves nearby in another triangular configuration. “A community is always in a state of change and flux,” added the choreographer. “We're in precarious times, so we need to support and take care of each other more.”