Essay by Patti Smith: Art Rats in New York City

In 1967, I stepped out of the Port Authority Bus Terminal carrying a plaid suitcase, fueled by the desire to become an artist. I may have lacked some skills, but I was ready to develop them because I believed deeply in my calling. This aspiration came to me like an ecstatic vision. There was no Faustian bargain or divine promise behind my vow. I knew I would be alone, yet hoped to find a companion, and fate led me to him.

Meeting Robert Mapplethorpe

Robert Mapplethorpe was an American boy raised in a devout Catholic family. He had played saxophone in the high school band and earned an R.O.T.C. scholarship to study graphic arts at Pratt Institute. His mother hoped he would join the priesthood, while his father envisioned a military career with commercial art as a fallback.

Early Life and Expectations

Robert had pale skin, green eyes, and dark, curly hair cut close.
Following his father's wishes, he received an apartment, knee-high leather riding boots, and an allowance.
At Pratt, he excelled as a draftsman and initially followed the path laid out for him.

Turning Point

No one suspected another identity was emerging within him. At age twenty, Robert gave up his saxophone, priestly ambitions, and military aspirations. Looking in the mirror, he no longer saw a priest or a future R.O.T.C. captain.

"There was no Faustian pact connected with my vow, no expectations from godly elements."

"At the age of twenty, Robert laid down his saxophone, his robes, and his rifle."

Author's summary: Patti Smith recounts her arrival in New York and her pivotal friendship with Robert Mapplethorpe, highlighting his transformation from a Catholic military path to pursuing his true artistic identity.

The New Yorker — 2025-11-01