Saving Cezanne's studio: the author recalls his youthful efforts to preserve Cezanne's final studio in Aix-en-Provence, and the disillusion that followed his successful campaign - Memoir

Art in America, July, 2002 by James Lord

He received me courteously, but after a stilted talk of 10 minutes, during which it was evident he had little feeling for Cezanne, he introduced me to his assistant, Madame Anne Minor, who would be better able to assist me, he said. And he was more right than probably he ever knew or cared, for without Madame Minor's efficient and charming cooperation, the project would surely have come to nothing. She proved herself indispensable on that very first day by introducing me to two highly influential ladies from France who happened by chance to be in New York. They were Madame Bouchot-Saupique and Madame Guinet-Pechadre, the former being chief curator of the Cabinet des Dessins at the Louvre and also assistant to Monsieur Jacques Jaujard, director general of arts and letters, while the latter was director of the museums in Nice but more influential in national cultural matters than that provincial post might suggest. All three of these ladies were most enthusiastic about my project and promised to assist in any way they could. It so happened that Madame Bouchot-Saupique and Madame Guinet-Pechadre were in America to solicit loans for an important retrospective exhibition of Cezanne's works at Aix-en-Provence, the first ever to take place in the artist's native town. Madame Minor promised that she would find some way to arrange that contributions be deductible for income-tax purposes, though this would be difficult in the case of a foreign cultural charity. But she would manage, she said, and she did.

My next step was to make the acquaintance of the foremost living authority on Cezanne's work and obtain his assistance. This person, of course, was John Rewald, who had recently published not only a biography of the painter but also a definitive history of Impressionism. He agreed by telephone to receive me at his home in the afternoon of Dec. 20, 1952. The walls of his apartment were hung with a splendid collection of 19th- and 20th-century French drawings, which I much admired to his evident satisfaction. As soon as I broached the purpose of my visit, however, his manner altered abruptly. He declared that he would have nothing to do with my project and if the French wished to make a museum of Cezanne's studio, which he had visited before the war when nobody was interested in it, then they could, and should, pay for it themselves instead of begging money from the United States not only to revive their ruined economy but to resolve run-down palaces and chateaux. I was astonished and taken aback by this outburst, and realized that without Rewald's support, my project would be seriously compromised. However, having made a start, I was reluctant to abandon the effort and asked whether someone else of distinction might be disposed to help. Rewald shrugged and frowned, but said that I could always apply to a man named Gerstle Mack, who had, after all, published a biography of Cezanne in the '30s. And that was the conclusion of our interview.

I found Gerstle Mack in the telephone book, made an appointment and went to see him, a rather weary man past middle age but amiable and prepared to give advice. When I related the details of my disappointing visit to John Rewald, he replied that the younger man's refusal to help was regrettable but understandable, and proceeded to explain why. Rewald was German, but from an early age had been passionately interested in French Impressionist painting, especially the work of Cezanne. As a student aged only 23, he had visited Aix and its environs, taking many invaluable photographs of the sites that had served as models for Cezanne's landscape paintings. Being Jewish, he had taken up residence in France as a refugee, and published just before the outbreak of the war his thesis on Cezanne--the life, work and friendship with Zola. When hostilities became serious, the French police had summarily detained all German citizens resident in France, including many eminent Jewish refugees, Rewald among others, and herded them into internment camps. Had they been found there by the Nazis, or even by certain elements of the servile French regime, what fate these Jews might subsequently have suffered was only too certain and sinister. However, many of them were able to escape and make their way somehow or other out of France, some even reaching the United States. But many of these fortunate survivors brought with them a bitter and abiding resentment against France, supposedly a time-honored land of sanctuary, which by egregious disregard for their status as refugees had placed them in dire peril. That, said Mr. Mack, was the explanation for John Rewald's refusal to cooperate. As for himself, he considered my undertaking honorable and ambitious, albeit probably impracticable, but he would happily give what help he could, though this would doubtless turn out to be little. And it was.