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19 In an old family photograph there is a picture as young boys of Joe between Jamie and his brother all three crowded around a threadbare red Victorian style high backed chair. This chair has a long Zito history having first belonged to his father then requisitioned without rancor by Joe to become one of the handful of things that has always had a hallowed place in every single studio since Joe became a practicing artist. It was where he did much of his thinking a lot of his listening some of his talking and hopefully a bit of late afternoon napping. As he made plans for the upcoming survey of thirty years of work at Lennon Weinberg now comfortably ensconced in a ground floor space in Chelsea the red chair found itself in the klieg light of retrospective preoccupation in his mind the ultimate autobiographical talisman and a physical embodiment of the continuity between his past present and future. I should have felt its absence when I took an inventory of his studio to begin this piece of writing but I didnt. It was only when he answered my question as to what would be on the cover of the catalogue that I realized it was gone. Joe had taken it to a factory some weeks before where it is destined to be destroyed during the process of casting an exact replica in a white synthetic material called hydro-stone. It will be a ghost chair he said momentarily lost in thought and apparently still absorbed with the implications of his decision. After some time he finally spoke again. You know Faulkner once said that The past is never dead. Its not even past.... so I was thinking maybe it is important to finally let go of certain things without anger or regret especially if they help me define the present. Dedicated to Catherine Calhoun and Scout. Damon Brandt April 2015 New York New York