During the 1990s, Lauder in many ways assumed the role that my family once held in the Museum. By bringing in powerful CEOs and other prominent businessmen and women, he shaped the board of trustees and, in addition, maintained its stability by staying in close touch with the trustees. After five years as president, he became chairman and chose the next two presidents: first, Gilbert Maurer, and now, Joel Ehrenkranz. Lauder donated a considerable amount to the Museum and he’s raised still more. Further, he’s purchased major works of art for the Whitney — among them, groups of paintings by Ad Reinhardt and Agnes Martin, a series of Brice Marden drawings, and a superb Jasper Johns drawing. He has personally funded very much needed curators for drawings and prints. In short, Leonard has given most generously to the Museum, not only of his wealth and art but of himself. The donation of his time and energy goes on and on.
Most importantly, perhaps, he has been an outstanding leader, infusing the board with his own confidence and enthusiasm. He runs meetings, or participates in them, with assurance, skill, and humor. Still the head of a multibillion dollar business, he manages nonetheless to attend most Whitney meetings — trustees, executive, budget, and drawing committees, all national committee weekends and trips — and continues to work closely with the director and curators.
The Whitney is indeed indebted to Leonard Lauder. It’s likely that he’ll take his place in history as the person who most enabled the Whitney to continue to grow larger and stronger in the ’90s.
No one will ever replace Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, the visionary creator of the Whitney Museum of American Art. A sculptor herself, she well understood the need for the artist’s freedom to experiment, for the director’s freedom to choose, and for the absolute separation mandatory between staff and patron to ensure these freedoms. Since it never occurred to her — and at that time why should it have? — that the Museum one day might need money other than hers, her considerations were chiefly artistic. The wide attendance she’d hoped for had nothing to do with financial gain. The Museum’s needs were bound to change as it evolved into the great public institution it is today.
The Whitney, as other institutions before and since, has had to make the compromises its survival and growth demanded. These sacrifices were not small. Necessary, but not small. I hope that we never forget exactly what we had to lose to protect our gains. I hope we keep these losses precise in our memories and carry those ideals into the future. Let us remember, especially, the woman who believed that her ideals and her small, beloved Museum were inseparable.
While looking back is essential for understanding, I must now look forward. These words about the Whitney, written in 1954 by Lloyd Goodrich, remain as apt today:
The new Museum’s basic principles had already been shaped by years of experience and they have not changed essentially since. Though never precisely formulated, they might be summed up as a set of general beliefs: that the contemporary art of a nation has a special importance for its people regardless of comparisons with that of other nations or periods; that a museum’s function is not merely to conserve the past but to play an active part in the creative life of the present; that a museum should always be open to the new, the young, the experimental; that it should never forget that the artist is the prime mover in all artistic matters; that it should support his freedom of expression, respect his opinions and avoid any attempt to found a school.
May the Whitney always adhere to these values. May they remain the changeless root of all growth and change, the heart of the Museum.
As I leave the Whitney’s board in June 1999, after more than forty-one years, I will watch eagerly as Fiona takes her place as a trustee. Looking back over many years, I realize anew how central the Museum has been for me. As our relationship evolved, it’s been, in turn, mother, sister, child, and lover. It’s given me a richer life than I could possibly have imagined for myself, and it’s given me more pain, too — plus a true education. I’ve been blessed with a wonderful family, and the Whitney is a part of that complex orbit within which I spin out my days.
Acknowledgments
Without Lenora De Sio, this book might not exist. Teacher, guru, editor, and friend, Lenora makes, in the works of her beloved T. S. Eliot, “a raid on the inarticulate.” With her guidance, ideas and feelings become words, one’s own voice emerges. All the way, from the beginning through many revisions, she has been with me. She has helped me to provide a context for the events I was writing about, and to develop and deepen my ideas. Always ready for discussion, in a thick stack of eloquent letters she inspired, urged, edited, and gave me the confidence to continue. I am deeply grateful to Lenora for her wisdom, insight, and goodness.
Joan Clark’s enthusiasm and generosity led directly to this book, through her introduction and warm words about my manuscript to Jeannette and Richard Seaver. I am infinitely grateful to her, for that and for her friendship.
Heartfelt thanks go to B. H. Friedman, an accomplished writer with an acute mind, who improved its shape and substance, page by page. He also allowed me to quote from the biography he wrote about my grandmother, Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (Doubleday, 1978), and I have used many of its pages, almost verbatim, in writing about my Vanderbilt and Whitney ancestors.
Joan Weakley and her husband Rob Ingraham were greatly encouraging. A proficient editor, Rob gave me helpful pages of articulate notes.
Anabel Davis-Goff, a superb writer who is also an adept editor, was kind enough to make excellent suggestions for strengthening this book.
Arthur Danto, pellucid philosopher and critic, scrutinized my pages, and elucidated the book’s shape and meaning, increasing my resolve to publish it.
Susan Gofer, gifted artist, faithful friend, was by my side during all these years of writing, challenging me in thoughtful letters and discussions to analyze, dig, question, and — above all — to finish.
I am extremely grateful to my son-in-law Mark Donovan, an expert editor, for his insight, and for all his incisive, affectionate, and eloquent advice.
Tom Armstrong’s acceptance was vital, especially since I know that reliving the late ’80s through this book was painful for him. His enthusiasm means a great deal to me. He is, after all, the hero of this story.
Friends who read versions of the manuscript and whose responses and encouragement were precious include Mei Mei Bersenbrugge, Lesley Dill, Gabriella de Ferrari, Brendan Gill, Barklie Henry, Jacqueline Hoefer, David McIntosh, Doris Palca, Christine Taylor Patten, Lisa Phillips, Jennifer Russell, Patterson Sims, Julie Sylvester, Linda Tarnay, Richard Tuttle, Adam Weinberg, George and Betty Woodman, and Paul Wolff. Several friends read certain chapters, and I appreciate their bolstering: Pamela McCarthy, David Michaelis, Elizabeth Seydel Morgan, Happy Price, June Roth, and Bill Valentine.
I appreciate the help of many people at the Whitney Museum, especially that of Anita Duquette, who located many photographs and arranged for permissions to use them.
My sons and daughters and their spouses: Michelle and Bill Evans, Duncan Duer and Linda Stern Irving, Macculloch Miller Irving and Libby Cameron, and Fiona and Mark Donovan, have been abundantly supportive. I’m profoundly thankful to them, not only for their outpouring of love now, but over all the years of their being. And for giving me such fabulous grandchildren and even a great-grandchild!
Fiona has read more than one revision, and her pertinent comments have been indispensable to its final form. She has picked up stylistic and factual errors, mistakes in wording and interpretation, and lapses of inclusion and exclusion. Her willingness to discuss many aspects of the Whitney has helped me to formulate and adjust many of my ideas and conclusions, since she knows the Museum and its cast of characters so very well, and her commitment to my project has been of measureless value.
My editor, Jeannette Seaver, is wondrous. Her faith and her experienced enthusiasm enabled me to believe that the manuscript would become a book, and I feel tremendously blessed by her brilliant editing. She has improved the book ve
ry much. It has been a joy to work with both Jeannette and Richard Seaver, publishers extraordinaire, and I’m deeply grateful to them for their confidence in the book and in me.
My final editing was done at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. Its serenity, warm embrace, and beauty made it possible to concentrate and work productively.
Last, but definitely not least, I thank my husband, Sydney Francis Biddle, for bearing with my Museum life and love, and for participating eagerly in dinners, lunches, symposia, lectures, national committee meetings, and Whitney tours here and abroad — a seemingly endless flow of events and people. Sydney has been entirely supportive during the making of this book, and his comments have always been cogent and thought-provoking. He makes me know that he’s proud of me for writing it — and this has been a powerful incentive. Heartfelt thanks, Sydney, for that, and for our eighteen years of adventuresome, lively, and loving married life.
While I’ll appreciate forever the help and support I’ve received from all these wonderful friends and family members, I want to emphasize that all errors, lapses, inconsistencies, and other faults are mine alone.
Portrait of “Commodore” Cornelius Vanderbilt, painted from life by Henry Inman in 1837.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, just before the Whitney Museum of American Art opening, November 17, 1931. Edward Steichen, reprinted with permission of Joanna Steichen.
Four generations: (from left) Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney); her granddaughter, Pamela Tower (Mrs. Thomas LeBoutillier); her mother, Alice Gwynne (Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt II); and her daughter, Flora Whitney Miller (Mrs. George Macculloch Miller).
Home of Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt II at 1 West 57th Street, 1908. Also visible: the Plaza Hotel, Fifth Avenue, and 58th Street. The Byron Collection, Museum of the City of New York.
Interior of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney’s (Gertrude Vanderbilt’s) house at 871 Fifth Avenue.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney with her dog, Loup, in Paris, circa 1914. Boissonas & Taponier.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, circa 1909. Bradley.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney and three of her grandchildren, 1929: (from left) Pamela, author Flora, and Whitney.
The Breakers, Newport, Rhode Island, designed by Richard Morris Hunt, completed in 1895.
Chinoise, by Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, 1914. Photograph copyright © 1997: Whitney Museum of American Art, New York.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney working on a figure for the Arlington Fountain, circa 1913.
Mother and Child, by Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, 1935. Collection of Whitney Museum of American Art, New York.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney’s studio in Old Westbury, New York. Designed by William Adams Delano, 1910–1913. In the foreground, her Arlington Fountain.
Close-up of Arlington Fountain by Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, 1913. Photograph copyright © 1998: Whitney Museum of American Art.
Dedication of Buffalo Bill Monument, by Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, Cody, Wyoming, 1924.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney working on Spirit of Flight, 1938, for the 1939 World’s Fair in New York. Walt Sanders/Black Star, NY.
John Sargent’s drawing of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney in her Léon Bakst costume, 1914.
Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, circa 1913. Baron de Meyer.
First home of the Whitney Museum of American Art, 8 West 8th Street, 1931. F. S. Lincoln.
Juliana Force, first director of the Whitney Museum of American Art, in her apartment above the Museum. Cecil Beaton. Copyright © Whitney Museum of American Art.
The opening of the Whitney Museum of American Art in 1931. Frances Mulhall Achilles Library, Whitney Museum of American Art.
“Cully”—George Macculloch Miller, Flora’s husband—in the Adirondacks.
Flora Whitney Miller, circa 1930. Cecil Beaton.
The photograph of Flora Whitney Miller at Camp Deerlands, in the Adirondacks, that her husband “Cully” always kept on his desk.
The second home of the Whitney Museum of American Art, 1954, designed by Noel & Miller, at 22 West 54th Street. Ezra Stoller. Copyright © Esto.
Flora Whitney Miller and Flora Miller Biddle circa 1950, in front of Eugene Speicher’s portrait of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney.
July 1, 1961. First nonfamily trustees with Flora Whitney Miller: (from left) David M. Solinger, B. H. Friedman, John I. H. Baur, associate director, Flora Whitney Miller, Roy R. Neuberger, Lloyd Goodrich, director, Arthur G. Altschul, and Michael H. Irving. Brooks Elder.
Marcel Breuer, (at left), the architect of the third Whitney Museum building, with (from left to right) the author, Lloyd Goodrich, and Flora Whitney Miller, 1964. Brooks Elder.
Cornerstone-laying ceremony, October 1964, with Mayor Robert F. Wagner (speaking), and Flora Miller and August Heckscher, Director of 20th Century Fund, seated at rear. Whitney Museum of American Art.
Whitney trustee and author, B. H. Friedman, and Flora Miller Biddle, 1978. Alex Gotfryd.
Ribbon-cutting ceremony on September 27, 1966, with (from left) trustees Jacqueline Kennedy and William Marsteller, Nathan Cummings, Flora Whitney Miller, trustee Robert W. Sarnoff, Marylou Whitney (Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney), and Lloyd Goodrich. Women’s Wear Daily copyright © 1966 by Fairchild Publications, Inc., a Capital Cities/ABC Company.
Philip Johnson and the author at the opening dinner for Frank Stella.
The author as new president of the Whitney Museum, in her office at 110 East 66th Street, circa 1979. Helaine Messer.
First meeting of the Whitney Museum’s National Committee, in the Breuer trustees’ room, 1966. From left: John I. H. Baur, associate director; Flora Whitney Miller, president of the board; Jacqueline Kennedy, chair of the National Committee; Lloyd Goodrich, director; and the author, vice president of the board. New York Times copyright © 1966.
Mayor Edward Koch (right) January 3, 1980, proclaiming Whitney Museum of American Art Week at City Hall. Starting third from left, Thomas N. Armstrong III, director; Isamu Noguchi, sculptor; Richard Marshall, curator, and Flora Biddle. Helaine Messer.
Flora Whitney Miller and Edward Hopper in front of Hopper’s painting, Early Sunday Morning, 1961. Brooks Elder.
Flora Biddle, Elizabeth Petrie, trustee and chair of the building committee for the Graves building, and Frank Stella, at his exhibition at the Whitney in 1982.
Ellsworth Kelly installing his exhibition at the Whitney Museum in 1982, with the author.
Trustee Victor Ganz, in front of one of his Picasso paintings, circa 1980.
(from left) Andrew Sigler, CEO Champion Paper Company International, his wife Peggy, Alexander Calder, and Flora Biddle at the opening of the Calder exhibition at the Whitney Museum, 1976.
(left to right) Tom Armstrong, Mayor Koch, and the author with Alexander Calder’s Circus, 1982. Helaine Messer.
Flora Biddle announcing campaign to “Save the Calder Circus,” April 15, 1982. Helaine Messer.
Flora Miller Biddle and Targa the elephant, on Madison Avenue, doing their best to save the circus, in front of the Whitney Museum, with clowns from the Ringling Bros. Barnum &c Bailey Circus, 1982. Helaine Messer.
Flora Biddle celebrating the success of “Save the Calder Circus” campaign with Ringling Bros. friends, May 7, 1982. Helaine Messer.
Tom Armstrong (left) and Jasper Johns in front of Johns’ Three Flags.
The author and Alfonso Ossorio at the opening of his exhibition at the Oscarson Hood Gallery, 1984.
Flora Biddle (center) with Mei Mei Bersenbrugge and Richard Tuttle at party celebrating the Whitney Museum’s publication of their book, Hiddenness, 1989. Nancy Crampton.
Flora Biddle, Fiona Donovan, and Jasper Johns at the opening of an exhibition of Johns’ drawings at the Whitney, 1991. Jeanne Trudeau.
Model of Michael Graves’ planned addition to the Whitney Museum, 1989. Jerry L. Thompson
Leonard Lauder, president of the Whitney, Flora Biddle, and Fiona Dono
van, trustee and author’s daughter, celebrating the Breuer building’s thirtieth anniversary, 1996. Jeanne Trudeau.
Sydney Francis Biddle and author, at a Whitney Museum party, circa 1994.
The Whitney Women and the Museum They Made Page 50
