Word: goghs
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They came by the hundreds last week, creating limo-lock on Georgetown's elegant N Street. They gossiped under the Renoir and the Van Gogh in Pamela Harriman's salon. They sipped their Chablis in tribute to one of this age's truly great Democrats, Clark Clifford, and his new book, Counsel to the President, the story of a half-century of political grandeur. But one prominent Democrat, looking beyond the evening's scheduled gaiety, said, "We are witnessing the greatest eclipse of a political party in this country in our history...
...that white males get the best car deals. Some biblical scholars concluded that Jesus never said about 80% of the things the New Testament says he said. A retired Wisconsin couple learned that the oil painting that had hung in their living room for 30 years was a Van Gogh. And it turns out that if you run about a mile and a half every day, you get fewer head colds...
...TRUTH, however, is that poster gum simply does not work. Yesterday, I went to the Quad for a two-hour tutorial. When I left, my bedroom walls featured a typical smattering of undergraduate decor--pictures of friends, a Van Gogh print, my favorite Far Side and New Yorker cartoons, Martin Luther King, Jr., and David Ben-Gurion matching visionary stares and so on. When I returned, the collection was unceremoniously gathered on my floor...
Hammer wooed, and was wooed by, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, which made him a trustee in the hope of getting his collection. And indeed, some of it (though not much) was worth having. Hammer had one museum-quality Van Gogh, a writhing, energetic view of the madhouse garden at St.-Remy, along with fine to fair works by Sargent, Eakins, Gustave Moreau and Chardin. When LACMA was offered, by collector George Longstreet, a collection of good works by Honore Daumier, the great French social satirist, Hammer insisted on buying them all pre-emptively, on the promise that...
...Rubens Adoration of the Shepherds may not be by Rubens at all; the Titian, not by Titian. The Leonardo pages, installed in a sort of dim mortuary chapel of their own, look ridiculously anticlimactic. The Impressionist work is as dull as could be. And, except for the Van Gogh and one early Gauguin, so is the more modern material. Only the Daumier holdings have any depth. One is left with the impression that Hammer had no eye at all, no feeling for art; that he bought like a bad shot firing into the middle of a flock of birds...