By Greg Bruhn (from a Facebook post linked here)
On June 12th, one of the most passionate and eccentric people I’ve ever encountered in my life, Diana Barbara Boernstein, or simply “Di” (though there was nothing simple about her!), passed away peacefully in her sleep at the age of 86, in her legendary Greenwich Village loft surrounded by 4 of her equally legendary cats (and most likely the spirits of scores of pets past, whether feline or fowl). Di was truly extraordinary: raised in South Africa, her fierce independence led her to studies in Italy and England, and eventually she arrived to New York City. Di started as a documentary filmmaker for the United Nations, traveling the world at a time when movement into certain countries was not so obvious, being watched by host governments as a potential spy, and sometimes dressing as a man to gain entry or deflect suspicion in certain venues. She then put herself through law school at Columbia, and eventually went back for a 2nd graduate degree in economics at NYU, recognizing that economics was at the heart of everything, and became a well-respected lawyer at the United Nations, often working pro bono to assist in the causes she cared deeply for. Part grande dame, part Greenwich Village bohemian, she was a defender of civil rights, joining the marches in Washington; an advocate for women’s rights, organizing a group within the U.N. called UNWives to help fight injustice within the U.N. administration regarding diplomatic spouses; an activist for land conservancy; and, as anyone who knew her, a great lover of animals, especially cats (hers could speak multiple languages, read Shakespeare and don’t you ever dare call them “cute” in her presence, lest ye be excoriated).
One can’t think of Di without thinking of her loft, a grand space just below Washington Square Park, purchased as a co-op from NYU in collaboration with the influential artists Leon Golub, Nancy Spero and Peter Passuntino. Di was endlessly generous with her space, taking in an countless string of birds, cats, pigs, and, most importantly, artists and grad students, including myself. I was so fortunate to be connected to Di through another South African, whom I knew through NYU, and moved in to the loft “temporarily” in 2001. I stayed just over 11 years, making her loft my longest home ever. This 3700-sq-ft space contained an art studio, a dark room, giant bird cages and an eclectic array of art (from a bust of Abraham Lincoln to indigenous art from around the world to two random mannequin legs hanging at the entrance). She loved nothing more than to have the loft filled with people, hosting musical soirees with her friends, dinner parties (such as my annual Thanksgiving dinners for up to 30 people), and quite graciously allowed me to host a baby shower for a friend with around 60 guests. She beamed, so proud to preside as hostess over such a large affair. As with Di, the loft was filled with a tremendous amount of character and history: Jack Smith may have filmed there in the 60s; Mike Malone tattooed there in the early 70s at a time when tattooing was illegal in NYC; Dollar Brand had a piano there to practice on when he came through New York on tour from South Africa; Norman Mailer ran his mayoral campaign from the loft. The stories are endless. As is my gratitude. Di allowed me to stay in New York at a time when I would not have otherwise been able to afford it, charging only $350 per month in rent.
She was a force like few I’ve known and has had such a profound influence on my life. She will be missed, but not forgotten. I am so fortunate to have known her.