My friend Willi Smith was generous of spirit and affectionate. I was a young nobody, he embraced me into his circle, and invited me to parties at his spacious apartment at Two Horatio Street, a neo-classic Bing & Bing 1930’s building, in the West Village. At Willi’s top floor space, with a terrace overlooking the Hudson River and Jackson park below, we partied until the wee hours with artists, designers, actors, and of course photographers. Willi’s sister, Toukie, was dating Robert DeNiro at the time, and they would join us occasionally for the revelry–although DeNiro was a bit circumspect in his deportment, but adequately friendly. DeNiro was already a legend at that time, and imposing.
I recall Willi’s very touching pattern of sending me, by messenger to my studio, a tall, spring branch of flowering cherry blossoms on my birthday, every February, with a very sincere note. Willi always remembered.
Often the parties were hosted by Willi’s business partner, Laure Mallet, in her loft on Prince Street, just around the corner from my studio on Lower Broadway. Laure’s place was chockablock full of artwork, including my large black and white industrial prints, and fabulous designer furniture.
Willi was an art collector. His spacious apartment, which was the entire top floor, was packed with art from Christo to Warhol to African artifacts–that made a striking impression. His home was designed by the infamous Peter Marino, who was at the time part of a duo design team (with Jed Johnson) that designed Willi’s apartment, then his newer place on Lispenard Street below Canal Street–Willi’s office was designed by SITE. I rode out to the Hamptons one time with Marino and Willi, one of the most terrifying high-speed drives of my life, on the Long Island Expressway. We went to Marino’s home, the decor was before his notorious “leather-daddy of luxury” phase.
One of Willi’s most gracious gestures was to design my first wife’s, MaryAnne Levesque, and my suit for our wedding in New Hampshire, in 1985. There were multiple dress fittings, and yes, it was expensive, but it was totally gorgeous, a white satin floor length number with a train and lovely satin covered buttons running down the back. My Willi designed bespoke suit was an African inspired print, with pegged legs and shortened pants. I was also friends with the designer Perry Ellis at the time–he supplied the two toned loafers to accompany the Willi suit. I made the wild statement.
This era was tragically stained with the death by AIDS of many of my close friends and colleagues. My dearest friend was Oliver Johnston, a gifted designer who designed my first logo, and who also designed the first AIDS logo, Silence=Death, for the Silence=Death Project, formed by six gay activists in New York City, in 1987: Avram Finkelstein, Brian Howard, Oliver Johnston, Charles Kreloff, Chris Lione, and Jorge Soccarás. The poster was then used by the AIDS Coalition To Unleash Power (ACT UP), as their central image.
Willi succumbed to the disease in a slow demise that I sadly remember well. It was a very, very wrenching time for our community. I miss Willi dearly–as much I miss Oliver, and my many other brilliant friends…
