It is said that Jayne’s early years in Los Angeles holding various
jobs from model, to salesperson in a department store, to secretary, all
changed when she married Charles Wrightsman, He was more than 25 years her
senior and newly divorced when gossip columns recorded their romance in 1938. Married in 1944, they remained together until
his death in 1986. Charlie, as he was
known, was an Oklahoma oil man and while he would have been considered rich by
normal standards, he was not yet super rich.
He decided, however, that they were going to break into high society. When
they were not accepted in Newport, they headed to Palm Beach where Charlie had
been before. In New York they found an
apartment at 820 Fifth Avenue, a very posh address, but on a lower floor.
Then, they decided they would collect art to assist in thier
social trajectory that would eventually bring them to the circles of Jackie
Kennedy and Mrs. Astor. Initially they
could not afford major Old Master paintings, but they could afford fine French 18th Century furniture, which, after all, was worthy of the Kings of France. Lucky for my family they were introduced to our
firm, Rosenberg & Stiebel, by a member of the Rothschild family. When they first came in my father told me
that Jayne took copious notes for Charlie. This was a serious study and slowly,
but surely, they built a major collection of French Furniture and other 18th century European decorative arts. In the
50’s, 60’s and much of the 70’s they were major clients of ours. Even later they came in regularly to check the market. I remember when Jayne came in to buy a gift
for a friend and we had a small collection of renaissance bronze animals for
sale. Was I surprised when she picked
out a bronze snake!
Since their neighbor, Baroness Renée de Becker (née
Rothschild) collected Meissen birds the Wrightsmans had to have a similar
collection. You can see those in this
image of Jayne. Also, as far as I know,
all the works of art in this image are from or through Rosenberg & Stiebel
aside from the Vermeer.
When they decided that they were
able to buy paintings Jayne invited the new young assistant curator of
paintings at the Metropolitan Museum, Keith Christiansen, to lunch. That was in 1977 and they got on well. From then on, they worked together building
the Met’s collection. In 1989 Keith became
the Jayne Wrightsman Curator of European Paintings and today Chair of the
Department as well. Jayne & Charlie
then, as Charlie’s health declined, Jayne alone, bought for the Met some of its
most important paintings acquisitions. Keith wrote a wonderful commemoration of
her as a patron in the Art Newspaper. He specifically mentions 2 paintings
including one of my favorites by Lorenzo Lotto, a great Venetian renaissance
artist. It represents Venus and her son,
Cupid. It was probably done to
commemorate a wedding in the 1520’s.
Slowly but surely Jayne became an expert in whatever she and
her husband decided to collect. She studied
and read copiously, befriended experts and even hiring tutors for language. Art education is not simply gained by
standing in front of a painting for a few minutes, otherwise, as Sherman Lee,
former director of the Cleveland Museum said, “all guards would be great art experts”. For collectors there is a difference. One wants to learn more about what one acquires
and find out where it fits into the story of art. Is it better or lesser than the work in the
museum? Is the subject matter consistent with the artists other paintings? How
does the brush stroke compare and where are other works by the artist? Constant comparison helps in the
education.
In 1969 Jayne phoned the gallery and asked that a large
Ormolu mounted celadon vase had to come up to the Met IMMEDIATELY. I took
the call and mentioned, as they already knew, that it had been repaired and
therefore, the less than usual price. Our art handler was on holiday so I
bundled up the vase and sent our young temp in a taxi to the Met.
Here, my wife, Penelope picked up
the story because she was at the receiving end at the Museum. I, of
course, learned this much later. The reason for the rush was that
the Wrightsman rooms were opening that evening with a huge bash. Their
decorator, Henri Samuel, said that one of a pair of commodes had to have a piece
on top to balance the vase he had placed on the other and Mrs. Wrightman
recalled the vase in our gallery. In
this image the Varengeville room with the vase all the way at the end. In the center is the red lacquer desk that had
belonged to Louis XV acquired from our gallery.
To end with my wife’s story, “it
was the end of my first year at the Met and
the opening of the Wrightsman Rooms of French 18th century art. As
a fellow I had contributed to the label writing and done innumerable errands. I
was astonished to receive the invitation to the seated dinner in the Louis XVI
gallery. I climbed the ladders to light the candles in the chandeliers which
had not yet been electrified in the Paar and Varengeville Rooms, then raced
downstairs to the department offices to put on my long evening dress. Returning
breathless I learned that Mrs. Wrightsman had decreed that I should join at the
end of the receiving line, greeting the honored guests.
I am afraid I have no idea whose hands I shook nor whom I
sat beside, nor what was served at that banquet. One vivid memory remains:
During the cocktail hour the guests roamed the period rooms. Pierre Rosenberg former
director of the Louvre, spotted my speechless expression of horror as Arthur
Ochs Sulzberger Jr., publisher of the New York Times, wandered across the Louis
XIV Savonnerie carpet holding a lit cigar with a growing length of ash. Rosenberg dived past me to catch it and usher
Mr. Sulzberger off one of the glories of the Louvre Grande Galerie.“
There is no question that the
Wrightsman legacy enriched the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of
Art over years with donations and purchases that collectively amounts to a treasure
trove.
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