We gathered our colored pencils and sheets of paper and drew like wild, feral children into the night, until, exhausted, we fell into bed, Patti Smith writes in her memoir, Just Kids, chronicling her life with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. They were the perfect punk-bohemian power couple, and they lived a downtown-flavored symbiosis, holed up in the infamous Chelsea Hotel. Their bliss was cut short, however, when Smith lost Mapplethorpe to Andy Warhol, whom she did not like (I hated the soup and felt little for the can), and then to AIDS in 1989.
But the surrounding cast is just as alluring as the duos love story. Smith tells of casual encounters with Salvador Dalí, Sam Shepard, and Allen Ginsberg, who might have flirted a little after mistaking her for a boy.
Fri., Nov. 19, 8 p.m., 2010