{"id":105256,"date":"2022-10-23T02:33:00","date_gmt":"2022-10-23T02:33:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/harchi90.com\/new-yorker-art-critic-peter-schjeldahl-dies-at-80\/"},"modified":"2022-10-23T02:33:00","modified_gmt":"2022-10-23T02:33:00","slug":"new-yorker-art-critic-peter-schjeldahl-dies-at-80","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/harchi90.com\/new-yorker-art-critic-peter-schjeldahl-dies-at-80\/","title":{"rendered":"New Yorker Art Critic Peter Schjeldahl Dies at 80"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Peter Schjeldahl (photo by Gilbert King; courtesy the New Yorker<\/em>)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Peter Schjeldahl, the New Yorker<\/em>‘s art critic and a half-century-long prose stylist of New York City’s art scene, died today, October 21 at the age of 80.<\/p>\n

Although Schjeldahl’s cause of death has not been officially confirmed, he was diagnosed with lung cancer at 77. In his fragmentary, freewheeling essay \u201cThe Art of Dying,\u201d published in the New Yorker<\/em> in 2019, Schjeldahl recounted how he was once awarded a Guggenheim grant to write a memoir but never completed the task. \u201cI don’t feel interesting,\u201d he said simply. \u201cThe Art of Dying\u201d was an attempt to remedy this failure, recounting his beginnings in criticism in 1965, his entanglement with the St. Mark’s Church and Lower East Side poetry scene of the 1960s and ’70s, his sexual relationships, his drug use and alcoholism, and his ever-evolving relationship with dying and death. Citing \u201cthe grim reaper\u201d as his muse, \u201dhe likened himself to\u201c a camera situated nowhere and taking in every last detail of the pulsating world. \u201d<\/p>\n