The Morgan Library, south wall |
There lived a man who
liked buying stuff. He filled two houses with stuff, but when stuff started to
overflow his third house, he built a large shed to store his stuff. When the
man died, his children held a garage sale and donated the rest of the stuff to
charity.
The man in question is John Pierpont Morgan (1837 – 1913) (the JP Morgan, JPM) and
his stuff – an eclectic collection of art, books, and manuscripts – at the time
of his death was worth over $50M and accounted for up to three quarters of his
estate. The big shed is what is now known as the Morgan Library and Museum on
Madison Avenue and 36th Street.
After Pierpont’s death, his son Jack, JPM, Jr., sold part of
the estate to pay taxes, gave a large part (6 to 8 thousand pieces!) to the Metropolitan Museum, where his father had been a trustee since 1888 and the president since 1904, and in 1924 unloaded the
rest into a trust overseeing a public library and museum.
A visit to the Morgan Library (visit virtually via the Google Art project), which offers free admission every Friday between 7 and 9 pm, was planned as yesterday’s after-dinner
entertainment; but various circumstances intervened, and I ended up having only
about 40 minutes to spend there. The Library is certainly worth a cursory look and perhaps more.
JP Morgan (see a good photo of him here and an interesting story of another portrait here) was born into a family of Junius
Spencer Morgan, businessman and banker, and his wife Juliet Pierpont. His father started grooming him for a career in
business from an early age. Pierpont finished Boston’s English High School, which provided practically-oriented education and strong training in mathematics, and was then sent to Europe to study first in Switzerland and
then at Gottingen University in Germany.
After completing his studies in 1857,
Pierpont started working at the London banking firm George Peabody & Co.,
where his father Junius was a partner. After Peabody
retired in 1864, Junius took over the firm and eventually gave it his name (J.
S. Morgan & Co). Pierpont returned to New York and started working for companies which, as representatives of his father’s firm, were pumping European money into the American economy. Since the 1870s he became a businessman in his own right and eventually amassed a vast fortune
through acquiring companies and making them profitable. Lightning-quick ability to do mental math, keen
business sense, exceptionally accurate judgment of human character, ambition, and
social grace have helped JP Morgan to become a key player on Wall Street and eventually one of the most powerful men in the world.
Mrs. Morgan No. 1 Amelia Sturges (1835-1862) Morgan Library archive |
In 1863 Morgan purchased an exemption from the military service in the Civil War, having spent $300, an equivalent of his and his father’s annual cigar budget, to pay another man, to whom he referred as “the other JP Morgan”, to fight in his stead. I am curious whether Morgan's double survived the war and how JPM and "the other JPM" were connected in the grand scheme of life.
Mrs. Morgan No. 2 Frances Tracy Morgan (1842-1924) Morgan Library archive |
A collection of photographs illustrating JPM's life can be found in this blog (in French) and a biography in this documentary. The author of a comprehensive biography of JPM, Jean Strouse, speaks here about her research and provides a number of fascinating facts from her book.
JPM. Photo from the Met Museum Bulletin 2000, story by Jean Strouse |
The old library consists of only four rooms: JP Morgan’s
study, the Library, and the Librarian’s Office, grouped around a lavishly
decorated Rotunda. [Photos are dark because flash photography is prohibited]
Rotunda:
Rotunda ceiling |
The Rotunda is a foyer opening into the street via the main entrance (from 36 St.) and into all three rooms of the Library building. Its decor reflects the love for the Renaissance art shared by the owner and the architect. The ceiling paintings depicting the three literary eras that dominated the library collection - the ancient world, the Middle Ages, and the Renaissance - were executed by H. Siddons Mowbray. The marble walls and floors and the mosaics and paintings bring to mind a hybrid of an Italian palazzo and the Moscow metro.
Study:
Inside the vault |
The study is a grand room with the walls upholstered in
deep red fabric, carved wood ceiling, heavy furniture, windows with stained
glass insets, and decorated with dozens of artifacts, mainly from the Renaissance
era. A large portrait of JP Morgan overlooks the study from above the mantelpiece,
his purple nose disfigured by rhinophyma tactfully rendered simply as a Large
Nose of a Great Man. The room testifies of JPM's ability to buy good items; whether it shows a love of art is unclear.
Vault doors |
The best part of the room is the closet, or rather the vault with reinforced walls and thick steel doors, behind which JPM’s most
prized possessions were kept. It clearly signals that it is a banker's study after all.
Library:
South-east corner |
Library ceiling |
The library is a huge square space with a 30-foot ceiling and three levels of bookcases. The bookcases are made of bronze and inlaid walnut. On each side of the entrance, hidden behind bookcases that swivel on hinges are marble staircases leading to the upper levels. The bookcase on the left side does not fit into its frame perfectly and leaves a small gap, through which a beautiful, brightly lit, white marble staircase can be glimpsed.
Dame in the north-east corner |
The Triumph of Avarice, 16 c. |
On the east wall, above a grand marble mantelpiece, is a huge tapestry, The Triumph of Avarice, from the series titled Seven Deadly Sins, produced in Brussels in 1545. The inscription at the top reads, “As Tantalus is ever thirsty in the midst of water, so is the miser always desirous of riches.” If this is a reflection of JPM’s sense of humor, my opinion of him is slightly improved.
Bibles, two bookcases of them |
Travelogues - La Divina Commedia |
In glass cases
are an obligatory copy of the Gutenberg Bible, one of three owned by the
Library, beautifully illuminated medieval manuscripts, and autographs of
various famous people, including a request for a loan written by Mozart shortly
before his death, and letters by Jane Austen, Einstein, Wilkie Collins, as well
as sheet music by Beethoven, Verdi, and Wagner. Researchers who wish to use the original documents can request access to the Sherman Fairchild Reading Room. Jean Strouse, the author of JPM's biography mentioned earlier, described in her interview how the Library had given her access to a large cache of documents related to JPM's life, including letters and diaries.
Chick flicks |
Durer's babe, 15 c. |
Librarian's Office:
Librarian's Office Collection of cylinder seals on the left |
The Librarian’s Office is the smallest room in the Library. Currently
it is used to display items from JPM’s comprehensive collection of the Near
Eastern cylinder seals, which includes about 1200 items.
The seals are probably the most interesting part of the
collection. Also on display are cuneiform tablets, although most of them are now kept at the Babylonian Collection founded by JPM at Yale.
Cylinder seals next to their imprints |
First Librarian: Belle da Costa Greene
Belle Greene. Photo from American National Biography site |
Still more fascinating is the personality of the former
occupant of the office, JPM’s personal librarian, Belle da Costa Greene. When you see a name like this, you immediately sense that it is bogus (conspiracy theorists, enjoy). The woman was certainly a match for her boss and had the most extraordinary “legend”. She was born
Belle Marion Greener (that’s more like it!) into a prominent black family in D.C.
Her father, Richard Theodore Greener, was the first black man to graduate from Harvard and later served as
the dean of Harvard University School of Law. After the parents separated,
Belle and her maternal relatives essentially erased Mr. Greener from their lives.
Belle changed her family name to “Greene” and assumed a middle name of da
Costa, claiming Portuguese ancestry to account for her complexion (right, it's the Moors! - although Belle must have had a complex cocktail of genes). From then on she “passed” as a white woman, as this practice was known
at the time, and identified herself as white during census. Rumors swirled, of course, but people found Ms. Greene most charming.
In her early 20s (apparently she lied about her age, too), Belle worked as a junior librarian at the Princeton University
Library, where she developed an interest in old manuscripts. There she met
Junius Spencer Morgan, JPM’s nephew, a Princeton alumnus and a fellow bibliophile.
Junius recommended Belle to his uncle, who was looking for somebody to manage his
new library. The enterprising belle and the old crook hit it off immediately
and soon developed a great rapport and mutual admiration.
In 1905, JPM hired
Belle Greene as his personal librarian. She proved to be an indispensable agent
of her master’s cause: exceptionally intelligent, highly energetic, ambitious, thorough,
possessed of charm and grace, as well as exotic appearance, expensive
taste, and a flair for high fashion, Belle has become one of the most
influential figures in the art world of the time and maneuvered with ease in the most privileged circles. Equipped with her master’s
unlimited means, she continued to acquire precious books and manuscripts, always seeking a second opinion from the experts. After JPM’s death in 1913, Greene became
the Library’s first director and remained in office for a total of 43 years. When
the Library opened to the public, she mounted several exhibitions that were
attended by about 170 thousand people. Shortly before her death in 1950,
she wisely burned most of her voluminous correspondence.
Bell from the Corsair, JPM's yacht |
Between 2003 and 2006, a new building, designed by Renzo Piano and Beyer Blinder Belle, was constructed behind the old library, to provide additional space for exhibitions, storage, lectures and concerts, and a visitors' entrance on Madison Avenue. The modern architecture is so different from the style of the old library that it creates a feeling of temporal disorientation whenever you cross the boundary between the two buildings; however, the new building by itself is airy, welcoming and pleasing to the eye.
Madison Avenue entrance to the Morgan Library |
Gilbert Court in the new building |
Dear Louisa,
ReplyDeleteI love this! I always wanted to go to this library...now after this blog I will make a point of it this summer.
Thanks...Dream strong, Karen www.earthdreams.com
Dear Karen,
ReplyDeleteI am glad you liked the story and I hope you will enjoy a visit to the Library! It is a curious place indeed and can be a pleasant refuge from the New York heat or rain for an hour or two. You certainly feel there that you are in an interesting company. Will keep dreaming. Thank you!
I just finished reading Herbert Satterlee's biography of Morgan (his father in law), and one of the things I found interesting was that one of Pierpont's earliest collections involved broken glass. As a young man living in Switzerland, and then Germany, he heard that old pieces of stained glass could be found by raking and digging under almost any old church or cathedral window in Europe. He used to bring home these pieces of broken glass in his pockets or a little box, and over the years he collected one or two barrels full. Nobody, including Morgan himself, ever knew what to do with all the pieces, but when his library was being built, the old shards of glass were used in the stained glass windows that were installed in the West Room of his library.
ReplyDeleteAnd for the record, I don't believe the pic of the man in the top hat is J.P. Morgan at all. It just doesn't look like him, and Morgan never wore muttonchops either. The man in that photo is kind of kind of familiar, but I'm willing to bet it's not Morgan.