December 28, 1966.

Dear Kurt,

For what it's worth, I don't really know, but I've spent some time thinking about this situation you're involved with at UCLA, and I wish we could talk about it instead of writing, phone calls, etc. Most of my own thoughts have been directed at the implications of the situation rather than to the problem of how to handle the immediate thing. In other words, what does it mean for the future, or for your own role in academia. Maybe if sounds as though I'm making a big thing out of a part of it that doesn't really worry or concern you. But if I were there, it'd be something which I would talk to you about, just to make sure you' re aware of the implications as I personally see them. I figure that most of the thoughts will have occurred to you already.

For instance, I'm afraid that you're going to run into very similar problems no matter where you go. It's just a thing with you and your personal style. What makes it more complicated is the fact that you want to work for the big and important schools, not for some place in Iowa, etc. But the bigger and "better" the school, the more they are inclined to rigidity and institutionalism of the sort that oppresses you. In other words, if you went to some unknown place, some place that didn't enjoy the sort of prestige that UCLA has--then I think you might stand a better chance of finding a working situation. But I don't think you want that kind of place, just as I don't either. To make it big as an individual, you pretty much have to work at a big-time place. But the more a school worries about its national image, or even regional image, then the more they seem to tighten up, and the less they seem willing to take chances.

The implications of this seem, to me anyway, to be that somewhere a choice has to be made. Like what do you want most, because some of your interests seem to be mutually exclusive with the way things are. I'm not proposing a sell-out to the institution. At least I don't think I am. I wonder sometimes If you're most interested in teaching 20th century or contemporary art, in teaching methods of art historical research, in teaching methods of learning in general, in writing your own articles and books, or in being a critic of the institution. I think you'd like to do all those things, and there's nothing theoretically wrong with that. But I think you realize, by now anyway, that it's damn difficult to get away with doing all that, and if is because any given institution has its image of what your primary role ought to be. So, when you step too far beyond that defined role, they begin to object. And what I'm asking is this: what tends to be most important to you in that kind of list of different interests? I think you have to come to grips with a question like that just so you can better define your relation to whatever group or individual you're involved with. I think it's also a way of avoiding personal agony too.

Because you theoretically don't go into situations expecting something which they really can't give you. It may  sound cynical, but I'm afraid you can't expect that a school like UCLA to be primarily concerned with education as you and I have conceived of it. So what does one do? Fight it? Work within it? Cut out from it and fight it in some other medium? You've gotten involved with fighting it, which is ok if you're doing it for some kind of personal reason or satisfaction or to make your personal stand clear. But don't hope that UCLA is going to change—that takes more than a one-man revolution. Look at Berkeley—that's a pretty large-scale revolt, but they're having tremendous difficulties as it is. From what I understand, it has accomplished little in altering the shape of the place as an educational institution. People are fighting for "rights" they say, but it's just an institutional power struggle now. The institution wants to preserve its structural security, and, so I am told, they are hell bent to do if. I'm also told that the powers–that–be are out "to get" the students, and one guy even predicted that within the next three or four months, there could be outright violence. All of which is great in a way, and if, as you have said, the significance is in the doing rather than in the ends involved, then it has great meaning. Even educational value, though that won't be recognized. But, if you're involved with that kind of phenomenon, what do you personally want most. On the other hand, do you think Cal is going to change? Do you realize what the students are fighting? Especially with the new administration. Or, in your personal case, do you think UCLA is going to "learn" anything. "Of course not," you answer, adding that such isn't your purpose.

But Kurt, for every UCLA situation that is defeated, even on a personal level, hundreds spring up to take its place. Are you going on to another, and another? To be a professional revolutionary, you need a voice too--a medium that is bigger and more far–reaching than the classroom or the campus. Like if that's what you want, maybe you should be in something like film writing. Or perhaps a museum job where you'd only have to deal with a small group of people who have the power. There too, you would presumably know where you stood. You wouldn't have to fight the anonymity of teacher's situation—where you never know who's for or against you... chairman, dean, students', parents, etc.

I have the feeling I've gotten off the track somewhat. And 1 don't know what this all adds up to. As I said, I've been thinking more about the future than the present dilemma. Maybe it's not yet the time for you to do that because you're still very much involved with the thing itself (ding an sich). But sooner or later, I think you should consider some of the things I've mentioned, and maybe decide how they relate to you or how important they are. With my own case, I have begun to realize how I relate to a lot of these questions, and I think my personal ways also have their problems--like I try to walk the delicate line between maintaining my own beliefs, but not alienating too many people in doing so. In some ways, that's nicer than your approach which I think is more clear cut. There's no question about where you stand. With me, I often fear becoming unconsciously "institutionalized" in a way--gradually sort of caring less but not realizing it really. Between you and me, this is a criticism which I have heard severely leveled at Jim Melchert, for instance—that he's really an institution person, and that he'll always act to preserve his role in the institution. Also, that his role of being a teacher has more and more sapped his creative energies. That's where I ask what do you want most, and can you face that reality. I doubt, for instance, that Jim realizes a lot of this; after all, he's apparently a great teacher. But what has it cost his own work. Maybe one can swing both, but it seems to take an extraordinary person to do it. Well, l don't really know if these criticisms of Jim are justified--but that isn't the point. The point is that such a thing could happen to any of us--but more likely me than you. Frankly, that's one of the reasons I like working with you...I feel you keep me honest about a lot of these things that might easily slip by otherwise. But I hope the reverse is also true--that my own, more "easy going" style might help to keep you out of trouble where there's no real point in getting into it. Just which those situations are is hard to say, and it's your decision--for instance, I'm not saying that this UCLA problem is one of them. All l'm saying is that I'd like to talk about any part of it, and I hope that doing  so might be somehow good, and
somehow meaningful.

Carl