![Transcription Center logo](/themes/custom/tc_theme/assets/image/logo.png)
This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.
April 19. 1952 4/22/52 48 Cooper Square New York City Dear Dorothy Miller: As you already know, the problem presented by the creation of the travelling show out of examples of the "15" continues to disturb me keenly. Our discussions have clarified the positions we both, in regard to purposes, must take. It does not make the whole issue more pleasant to know that our purposes cannot be integrated, at least to the point where some of our decisions can be without pain to the other. But that is the way with issues of principle,- somebody always gets hurt. Whether one compromises or is ruthless, one is hurt. For several days now I have been taking the beating within myself which always follows a conflict between the probity of my relation to my work, and the desire not to injure nor engage in conflict with a friend. It is not a novel experience, nor is it likely to be my last. But to me it is strange that I should have got myself into this position, and more strange yet that after all my past experiences I should still spend time lacerating myself with the dilemma. I know it is unsolvable. And also I know that I cannot move without being thought temperamental, cruel, foolish, or just selfish. But the time for a final decision is at hand. These last two afternoons I have tried to make sharply clear my relation to the work in your gallery, and the reasons for its presence there, and the bases of its effectiveness. You have, also, permitted it to be seen, - a very unusual circumstance to occur in any contemporary gallery. May I add it might be considered a great and noble mistake? (We share in error, I in permitting you to make the mistake by loaning the work to the Museum.) In any event, it turned out to be unfortunate for both of us. In addition I have also stated categorically my relation to the morbid hinterland where I have tried to live among the Museums and Universities. Out of their insistence that no man should commit a free act, and out of my demand that I would commit a lifetime of free acts, were hammered out, over some twenty five years, the rigors and principles by which my work has been done. The seven examples of that work which hang on the walls of your gallery are the best argument I have, for myself, that this would be the worst possible time to reverse myself. Believe me, it is a difficult thing to say to you. But regardless of the cost, I cannot bring myself to permit paintings which I own to be sent [INCERT] thus back into that mean and smug "wilderness" ((?)) [INCERT] receive the