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

In order to solicit contributions for a cause even so deserving as the preservation of Cezanne's studio and its invaluable contents, I knew that I would have to make my appeal in the name of a group of sponsors so prestigious that their repute alone would be persuasive. So I set out to form what I named the Cezanne Memorial Committee. As its leader, I invited, and received by return mail (with a check), the collaboration of Paul J. Sachs, professor of fine arts at Harvard University, who had trained and inspired many art historians, curators and collectors during the crucial years of growth of American art museums. Next I appealed to the distinguished and wealthy collectors Carroll Tyson, John Hay Whitney, Henry P. McIlhenny, John Newberry and Erich Maria Remarque. Word of what I was doing came quickly, of course, to the attention of John Rewald. He got in touch with me to say that he had reconsidered his impulsive refusal to cooperate and would now be disposed to help insofar as it was possible. It was obvious that he had realized how inexpedient it would be for him personally to allow anything important concerning Cezanne to take place without his active participation. I asked to add his name as a member of my committee, to which he readily agreed. Naturally I added Gerstle Mack, as well, and placed my own name last, listing myself as secretary of the committee, since I would be signing the letters requesting donations and was quite unknown.

Having in the meantime obtained a long list of possible donors from a friend and curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art named Theodore Rousseau, himself the owner of a splendid watercolor by Cezanne, I suggested to John Rewald that, inasmuch as he was personally acquainted with many of the persons named, it might be politic for him rather than myself to appeal to them. He agreed to do this, and it is a testimony to his influence that several of the most generous contributions came in response to his intervention.

Some 300 letters requesting donations were sent out before the middle of March 1953. The speed and volume of the response were astonishing. Letters containing checks for amounts both large and small poured almost daily into the office of Madame Minor at 972 Fifth Avenue. The largest gift contributed was a thousand dollars, by no means a negligible sum at the time, and the smallest was five dollars, sent by a lady for whom, as it happened, charity for herself would have been appropriate yet who cared about genius. In all there were 114 contributions, every one of them from Americans save that from a Swiss art dealer to whom the appeal had been sent and whose passion for Cezanne bore generosity from overseas.

By early May the amount needed was in the bank. I never knew exactly how much we were able to raise. Madame Minor managed the accounts. It was above $25,000, anyway, and something less than $30,000, more than enough to purchase the studio and pay for a few necessary repairs. There was a reception to celebrate the success of the undertaking. Monsieur Douzelot and John Rewald made speeches. It had all seemed so wonderfully simple. Little did we dream what difficulties and disillusions lay in wait.