Collecting with Passion: Part 3

This article, written by collector Anita Reiner’s daughter, Renee Reiner, was first published by Christie’s in May 2014 and is reposted here in three parts in conjunction with the exhibition A Tribute To Anita Reiner, on view at the Phillips through Jan. 4, 2015. Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here. We welcome others to share their own anecdotes about this legendary collector or contribute comments about the installation honoring her.

Anita Reiner with Wangechi Mutu

(left) Wangechi Mutu with Anita Reiner (right) Installation shot of Wangechi Mutu’s work at the Phillips

In 1971, we moved to a new house, built by our dad. It was designed with Anita’s passion in mind, allowing her to showcase her growing collection: It featured white walls, high ceilings, bright light. With this new space, Anita was off to the galleries at an ever-increasing pace. As her skill and knowledge developed, she became even more focused. The contemporary art world drew her in; there was a deep respect growing between her and her gallery-owner colleagues. Relationships with Leo Castelli, Ivan Karp, Anina Nosei, Arnie Glimcher, Jack Shainman, Mary Boone and others became long-lasting friendships.

With her passion came a vibrancy and sense of purpose. Our mom was never more alive and engaged than when a new piece of art was delivered to the house. In truth, her drive had more than an intensity to it; Mom had a fun-loving, impish side as well. Collecting art for her became integral to her sense of self and she had a lot of fun pursuing this passion. Her life philosophy, according to friend Wendy, was summed up in the words on two of her favorite t-shirts: “I am a conceptual work of art.” and “I am not boring!” She was, says Wendy, truly one of a kind.

We, her family, came to respect mom’s keen eye and visual acuity. Professionals in the art world respected this as well, seeking out her thoughts and her opinions.  She was immersed in art and artists, primarily in New York, but also in other cities in the US and around the world.  She and dad were regulars at the Basel Art Fair in Switzerland, the Venice Biennale, Documenta and Miami Basel.  They loved to explore new places and Anita would always seek out the edgy, controversial, or revolutionary artists of the places they visited, whether it was in China, India, Burma, Fiji, Brazil, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Germany, Switzerland, Czechoslovakia, London, or France.  No matter the location, she would walk into a gallery exhibit, see a dozen pieces of art, and, within a minute or two, would gravitate to the most compelling piece in the show and say, “put it on reserve.”  Then she’d sleep on it.  If the piece was still with her in the morning, she knew she had to buy it.  She rarely had regrets over her spontaneity; however, she was on occasion sorry when she left a piece behind.

Around 2000, Anita had our dad build a new room on the house:  she needed more space for her growing collection.  Always thinking about art, but not necessarily offering all pertinent information up front, Mom had purchased a set of oversized Jorgé Pardo doors (her friend Steve Shane remarked that they looked like sperm).  The opening to this new room needed to be designed and built to accommodate them.  We wondered at the time if Dad knew she’d been counting on a new room all along.

Anita rarely sold pieces from her collection.  If she fell out of love with a work, it was because her taste was growing and shifting, or because she needed space for something new.  She always had her finger directly on the pulse of what was good, valuable, important.  It was obvious that her family members were not the only ones impressed with her skill and vast knowledge; plenty of folks in the contemporary art world in the US and abroad enjoyed her expertise and her company and she had long lasting friendships with fellow art aficionados from around the world.

Renee Reiner

 

Portraits and Walt Kuhn’s Plumes

(Left) Walt Kuhn, Plumes, oil on canvas, 40 x 30 in. Acquired 1932. The Phillips Collection, Washington, DC. (Right) Marion "Duke" Green, Untitled, 2014. Watercolor and colored pencil on paper.

(Left) Walt Kuhn, Plumes, oil on canvas, 40 x 30 in. Acquired 1932. The Phillips Collection, Washington, DC. (Right) Marion “Duke” Green, Untitled, 2014. Watercolor and colored pencil on paper.

The Phillips is currently hosting the exhibition Art and Wellness: Creative Aging. The display features work from an ongoing collaboration between The Phillips Collection and Iona Senior Services. The program encourages older adults (many of whom suffer from chronic illness, including Alzheimer’s or related dementia), along with their families and caregivers, to make connections and access personal experiences and long-term memories through gallery conversations and hands-on art therapy.

Participants in the program looked at Walt Kuhn’s Plumes together. The painting prompted a group dialogue about how portraits convey mood and  composition, and how they can evoke personal memories. Individuals described the figure as “pensive,” “isolated,” “aloof,” and “not happy.” On participant, Duke, said, “She seems rather stiff and cold.” Another group member spoke of a “dichotomy” in the composition. She stated, “The feathers she wears on her head…there’s such an opposite appearance between what she’s wearing and how she presents herself.”

In the art therapy studio, Duke was drawn to Kuhn’s use of portraiture. He reminisced about his time drawing on the Atlantic City boardwalk with charcoal, and how he would identify women that inspired his work. He was eager to replicate the image: “It’s hard to go back to drawing after so many years. You see, I used to draw people’s portraits. But over time I’ve grown comfortable with it again.” Duke’s experience replicating Plumes gave him the confidence to continue to immerse himself in the artistic process, and reinvigorated his love for portraiture.

Serenity Now!: Top 5 Quiet Moments in Neo-Impressionism and the Dream of Realities

As the hectic holiday season approaches, our minds are struggling to determine how it could be November already, our bodies are caffeinated by pumpkin spice lattes or peppermint mochas, our arms ache thinking of the impending burden of shopping bags, and our stomachs are soon-to-be overstuffed with turkey and the subsequent leftovers (mashed potatoes for days). Need a break from reality? Our Neo-Impressionism and the Dream of Realities: Painting, Poetry, Music exhibition offers an excellent opportunity for visitors to slow down and embrace stillness, if only for an hour. Behold, the top five quiet moments from the show:

5. Theo van Rysselberghe’s The Scheldt Upstream from Antwerp, Evening

Theo van Rysselberghe, The Scheldt Upstream from Antwerp, Evening, 1892. Oil on canvas, 26 3/4 x 35 1/2 in. Collection of Bruce and Robbi Toll

Theo van Rysselberghe, The Scheldt Upstream from Antwerp, Evening, 1892. Oil on canvas, 26 3/4 x 35 1/2 in. Private collection

The intense, complementary hues of yellow and purple create a magical atmosphere in this painting by van Rysselberghe. The mood is quiet, yet joyful, as we see the sun setting on a picturesque view of the Scheldt while a boat quietly sails past. The anchor poles and their relflection in the water provide a gentle rhythm to the composition, urging us to reflect on the day’s end and welcome nightfall.

 

4. Albert Dubois-Pillet’s The Seine at Paris

The Seine at Paris, 1888. Oil on canvas, 31 1/2 x 39 1/8 in. (79.9 x 99.5 cm). Private collection

Albert Dubois-Pillet, The Seine at Paris, 1888. Oil on canvas, 31 1/2 x 39 1/8 in. (79.9 x 99.5 cm). Private collection

Dubois-Pillet’s The Seine at Paris depicts that intangible, quiet moment amidst city chaos anyone who’s ever lived in an urban metropolis has sought at one point or another. Here, he paints Paris on the verge of another day, before the hustle and bustle begin. The sunlight is peeking over the buildings as the boats on the Seine await their captains, their engines slowing coming to life emitting puffs of steam in the chilly morning air. It allows a moment of contemplative meditation as the dreams of night fade and the reality of day emerges.

 

3. Georges Seurat’s The Channel of Gravelines, Grand-Fort Philippe

Georges Seurat, The Channel of Gravelines, Grand-Fort Philippe, 1890. Oil on canvas, 25 1/2 x 31 7/8 in. (65 x 81 cm). National Gallery, London, Bought with the aid of a  grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund, 1995

Georges Seurat, The Channel of Gravelines, Grand-Fort Philippe, 1890. Oil on canvas, 25 1/2 x 31 7/8 in. (65 x 81 cm). National Gallery, London, Bought with the aid of a grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund, 1995

Seurat’s Channel of Gravelines, Grand-Fort Philippe proves that you don’t have to depict the morning, evening, or night to create a work that encourages the viewer to take a moment and let time stand still. In this painting, Seurat depicts accurately the landscape of Gravelines on the Normandy coast but removes all traces of human life in favor of a powerfully silent composition that is both peaceful and unsettling. The painting’s long vista and high horizon line encourage a meandering glance across the surface while the muted blues and yellows and Seurat’s pointillist technique softens and obscures any semblance of reality.

 

2. Charles Angrand’s The Good Samaritan

The Good Samaritan, 1895. Conté crayon. 33 x 24 in. (84 x 61 cm). Private collection

Charles Angrand, The Good Samaritan, 1895. Conté crayon, 33 x 24 in. (84 x 61 cm). Private collection

It took Angrand about three years to complete this drawing. THREE. YEARS. And it’s perfect. The figures of the samaritan, the man he’s hoisting onto the horse, and the horse seem to materialize from out of the darkness. The more you look and meditate on the picture, the more intricate and beautiful the details emerge. Angrand began as a painter but found his greatest artistic expression in Conté crayon and soon quit painting altogether to create masterworks such as this one.

 

1. Maximilien Luce’s Camaret, Moonlight and Fishing Boats

Camaret, Moonlight, and Fishing Boats, 1894. Oil on canvas. 28 1/2 x 36 1/4 in. (72.4 x 92.1 cm). Saint Louis Art Museum, Museum Purchase,  Museum Shop Fund, and funds given by Gary Wolff,  the Stephen F. Brauer and Camilla T. Brauer Charitable Trust,  the Pershing Charitable Trust, the Kate Stamper Wilhite  Charitable Foundation, the William Schmidt Charitable  Foundation, the John R. Goodall Charitable Trust,  Nooter Corporation, Eleanor C. Johnson, Mrs. Winifred Garber,  Hunter Engineering, the Joseph H. & Elizabeth E. Bascom  Charitable Foundation, the Stephen M. Boyd Fund, Robert  Brookings Smith, Irma Haeseler Bequest, BSI Constructors  Inc., Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Latzer, Samuel C. Davis Jr., Dr.  and Mrs. William H. Danforth, Mr. and Mrs. George Conant,  Mr. and Mrs. Michael Cramer, Dr. and Mrs. David M. Kipnis,  Mr. and Mrs. John O’Connell, Edith B. Schiele, and donors  to the Art Enrichment Fund, 29:1998

Maximilien Luce, Camaret, Moonlight and Fishing Boats, 1894. Oil on canvas, 28 1/2 x 36 1/4 in. (72.4 x 92.1 cm). Saint Louis Art Museum, Museum Purchase, Museum Shop Fund, and funds given by Gary Wolff, the Stephen F. Brauer and Camilla T. Brauer Charitable Trust, the Pershing Charitable Trust, the Kate Stamper Wilhite Charitable Foundation, the William Schmidt Charitable Foundation, the John R. Goodall Charitable Trust, Nooter Corporation, Eleanor C. Johnson, Mrs. Winifred Garber, Hunter Engineering, the Joseph H. & Elizabeth E. Bascom Charitable Foundation, the Stephen M. Boyd Fund, Robert Brookings Smith, Irma Haeseler Bequest, BSI Constructors Inc., Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Latzer, Samuel C. Davis Jr., Dr. and Mrs. William H. Danforth, Mr. and Mrs. George Conant, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Cramer, Dr. and Mrs. David M. Kipnis, Mr. and Mrs. John O’Connell, Edith B. Schiele, and donors to the Art Enrichment Fund, 29:1998

Is there anything more peaceful than observing a moonlit seashore in Normandy as boats bob gently up and down in the harbor while the world around you sleeps? I don’t think so. Luce was brilliant at utilizing deep blues and purples to evoke a quiet dreaminess in this and other works on view in the exhibition. Critic Gustave Geffroy praised this painting when it was exhibited in 1894 in Paris, writing “It is Camaret at night, the boats sleeping in the atmosphere of purple velvet, on the mysterious, phosphorescent sea…” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Neo-Impressionism and the Dream of Realities: Painting, Poetry, Music is on view through January 11, 2015.