Shapiro captivated us in 2012 with heraddictivenovelThe Art Forger.
According to the label, it once held uniforms for butchers; she hadnt known butchers wore uniforms.
Two years ago, shed returned to the States after seven years in France.
And she was right.
Lee leaned over her shoulder and squinted at the tiny four-by-six-inch canvas she was painting.
If you like wooden patriotism.
My favorite, Alizee said dryly.
Lee squatted, looked more closely at the small panels.
Lee frowned at the six four-by-six-foot pastel studies Alizee was miniaturizing, the original WPA-approved drawings for the mural.
Alizee didnt like the frown.
she demanded in mock dismay, then lit a cigarette.
Now you want to change it after Ive worked my butt off for a week?
It would take time to redo her efforts, but that was all it was: An effort.
Her own paintings were her real work.
When she worked on the mural, she was outside it; it was separate from her.
With her own canvases, there was no space in between.
Something queer about it.
Lee cocked her head to the side.
Lee garnered attention, particularly male attention, everywhere she went.
Then she started refashioning their calves.
Lee nodded and pointed to the mens shirts.
A little more blue mixed in with the gray, I think.
Lee sat back down at her desk, which was next to Alizees.
Hed meant it as the highest compliment, and shed taken it as such.
So she went to the Shop to drink and gripe with her like-minded comrades.
Lee leaned toward Alizees desk, her eyes shining wickedly.
Hes such a wonderful, sweet bear of a man.
Oh those soft, sensuous lips .
Lee whispered in her ear.
Alizee shook her off with an awkward laugh.
She wasnt about to
discuss Mark.
With Lee or with anyone else.
There was nothing to discuss.
This was the final step before the actual painting on canvas would begin.
When the panels were complete, they would be shipped to DC and pasted on the walls.
It felt like playing instead of working, although it was most definitely work.
The presidents wife came once, but she was completely at ease.
Mrs. Franklin Roosevelt climbed up ladders, unconcerned that she might get paint on her dress.
She stopped and talked with the artists, asking questions and listening intently to the answers.
Even answers from the assistants.
Youd never see Mme.
Albert Lebrun or Mme.
Leon Blum do anything like that.
All of them on the other side of the ocean.
Especially if it was nonfigurative.
This was worth everything.
It bothered her that there wasnt a single abstract mural being constructed in the warehouse.
A completely flat depiction of Paul Reveres ride.
But for all its boldness and action, it, too, was completely figurative.
Lee stared at the presidents wife.
Thats all it’s possible for you to say about the most amazing woman in the world?
Lee looked at Alizee with a straight face.
They watched the First Lady with the fawning men.
There was no doubt this was a woman who made things happen.
Bet shed like to talk to a girl, Alizee said.
Lets go over there.
Yeah, like those swelled heads are going to let us join their little coffee klatch.
Like good little children.
Alizee looked at their mural, at Paul Reveres ride next to it, at the ironworkers.
All so uninspired and conventional.
Someone needed to open horizons, to let new ideas in.
And who better than Eleanor Roosevelt?
Im going to ask her why there arent any abstract murals.
See if she can do anything about it.
You could get kicked off the project, Lee insisted.
Alizee strode toward the assemblage and edged in close to the
First Lady.
Exhilarated by her boldness, she waited for her moment, heart pounding.
She couldnt afford to lose this job.
But Norton was an old windbag, full of noise and little action, and this was important.
She slipped to the other side of Mrs. Roosevelt.
When Mrs. Roosevelt stepped toward another mural, Alizee intercepted her.
I just want to thank you for this opportunity, Mrs. Roosevelt.
Youre most welcome, Im sure, Mrs. Roosevelt said politely, but kept moving.
Im Alizee Benoit, she said, thrusting her hand out.
The First Lady had no choice but to shake Alizees hand.
Im so happy to hear that, Miss Benoit.
That was exactly our intention.
If were going to pay plumbers and carpenters for their work, why not pay artists to do theirs?
And this way you get original art in the places the plumbers and carpenters build.
Alizee heard the artificiality in her own voice and flushed.
I have a question for you.
Mrs. Roosevelt began to move away.
It was very nice to meet you, Miss Benoit, she said.
like continue your good work.
Alizee sent up another call to her mother and fell in step with the First Lady.
Why not some abstract murals, too?
There are lots of us doing nonrepresentational work right here in New York.
All over the country.
Its innovative, forceful, and very American.
So I was thinking it should be included, and I wondered if you agreed.
Mrs. Roosevelts eyes flashed with merriment.
And what is it about this abstract art that makes it so innovative and forceful?
Alizee took a deep breath.
Much deeper than just a picture of what we can already see.
Its not easy to make sense of or to paintbut when you do, theres nothing like it.
Its magical, really.
Interpreting whats going on inside.
She tapped her heart.
And then putting it on the outside.
The real experience of living.
The First Lady stopped walking.
Alizee vibrated with the need to articulate this, to make Mrs. Roosevelt appreciate what burned inside her.
We want to get at what lifefeelslike.
The emotions we all share.
To make our invisible life visible.
Or, she added lamely, frustrated with her inability to put it into words, or experienceable.
Im very sorry, my dearMrs.
Roosevelt gave a small laugh but the president likes pictures where he can recognize people.
Im not sure hed recognize emotions.
Alizee touched the ring again.
If you just gave it a chance.
Norton tapped her arm.
Im sure Mrs. Roosevelt would like to see the rest of the murals.
Im sure she would, Alizee agreed, turning back to the First Lady.
There was no point in retreating now.
That way youll be able to understand better what I wasnt very good at describing.
I may just take you up on that.
c’mon do, Alizee said.
And if you like anything you see, Id love you to have it.
Id give it to you, of course.
She grabbed a small scrap of paper, scribbled her address, and offered it.
And maybe youll decide that abstract art should be a part of the WPA.
Had she actually succeeded in convincing the First Lady?
She didnt know what to say but had to say something.
Id love to be the first one to design and supervise a nonrepresentational mural.
She swept her arms around the warehouse.
And one for my friend Lee Krasner, too, yo.
She waved to Lee, who was watching them wide-eyed.
Miss Krasners a wonderful artist.
If the two of us could have our own abstract projects, Id happily kiss your feet.
I dont think that will be necessary, Mrs. Roosevelt said, swallowing a smile.
