Rivers — Growing 1981 Larry

Growing is not nostalgic. Instead, it faces time head-on. The plant’s unruly spread evokes creativity that refuses to be pruned, even as it shows signs of wear. There is also an autobiographical thread: Rivers was a famously persistent womanizer, bon vivant, and father. Growing can be read as a self-portrait of appetite—for life, for art, for physical pleasure—tempered by the knowledge that all growth contains its own end.

: Emma has described the film as "nothing less than child pornography". She reported that objecting to the filming resulted in being labeled "uptight" or a "bad daughter" by her father. growing 1981 larry rivers

After the content of the tapes became public, NYU announced it did not want the footage Growing is not nostalgic

This is Rivers at his most fluent. The influence of Willem de Kooning and the New York School is unmistakable—the push-and-pull of figure and ground, the aggressive yet lyrical mark-making. Yet Rivers adds a Pop-era coolness: the plant is treated almost like a commercial illustration that has been deliberately roughened and rethought. The tension between graphic clarity and painterly chaos gives Growing its unsettled, compelling energy. There is also an autobiographical thread: Rivers was

But the "growing" is not passive.

The title is ironic and earnest in equal measure. Growing captures a moment of arrested expansion: tendrils reach outward, leaves overlap, yet the entire scene feels suspended between vigorous life and decay. A few lower leaves are daubed with brownish-yellow, as if spotted with age or disease. Rivers seems less interested in botanical accuracy than in using the plant as a metaphor for the artist’s own late-career productivity—persistent, messy, still reaching.