It’s Not a Passion, but It’s Close 

 I’m in Costa Rica for a few days, working on one of what I call my “legacy” projects – non-profit entities that will continue to exist long after I’m gone.

In this case, it’s a foundation that aims to raise the status of Central American modern and contemporary art. We are making friends and writing books and curating a collection and building a museum.

It’s an ambitious project. Like so many things I’ve done in my life, had I any idea how much work and money it would require, I probably would not have started it. But I’m not complaining. This is something I love.

I’m here, along with three board members, to make a formal presentation of our book – Central American Modernism – at the Museo de Arte Costarricense (Costa Rican Museum of Art), and to meet with some of the country’s top artists, dealers, and collectors, In addition to celebrating the book, which took nearly ten years to complete, we will be gathering information and taking photos for our next book.

I don’t like the way the word “passion” is used nowadays. It is used as a substitute for less emotive words like “commitment” or “enjoyment.” So, I avoid saying that I am “passionate” about what I do – even when I enjoy it and feel a strong commitment to it. But in the case of this legacy project, the level of my enjoyment is greater than usual. It surprises me. And there are times when it really does feel almost passionate. Like yesterday, when we spent the afternoon with Edgar Zúñiga (the younger half-brother to the well-known Francisco), an amazing sculptor who gave us a personal tour of his foundry, and then had dinner with Claus Steinmetz, one of the most important and most knowledgeable dealers of Central American art.