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Authors: Peggy Guggenheim
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delicious meals, burning them on purpose, only to pretend that it had been an error. He ate at a counter and served lovely drinks, made very carefully. Between this little room and the big one, which was so cold that in winter it was quite unusable, there was a little recess where Brancusi played oriental music on a gramophone he had made himself. Upstairs was his bedroom, a very modest affair. The whole place, including the bedroom, was covered in white dust from the sculptures.
Brancusi was a marvellous little man with a beard andpiercing dark eyes. He was half an astute peasant and half a real god. It made you very happy to be with him, but unfortunately he got too possessive about me and wanted all of my time. He called me Pegitza and told me he liked going on long trips and formerly had taken beautiful girls with him. He now wanted to take me, but I would not go. He also liked to go to very elegant hotels in France and arrive dressed like a peasant, and then order the most expensive things possible. He had been to India to visit the Maharajah of Indore, in whose garden he had placed three âBirds in Spaceâ, one in white marble, one in black and the third in bronze. He had also been back to Roumania, his own country, where the government had asked him to build public monuments. He was very proud of this. Most of his life had been very austerely led and devoted entirely to his work. He had sacrificed everything to this and had given up women for the most part, to the point of anguish. In his old age he was very lonely. He had a persecution complex and always thought people were spying on him. When he did not cook for me, he used to dress up and take me out to dinner. He loved me very much, but I never could get anything out of him. Laurence Vail suggested jokingly that I should marry Brancusi in order to inherit all his sculptures. I investigated the possibility, but soon discovered that he had other ideas and did not desire to have me as an heir. He would have preferred to sell me everything and then hide all the money in his wooden shoes.
After the row, I vanished from Brancusiâs life for several months, during which time I bought a much earlier bird of his, called âMaestroâ, for one thousand dollars, from Paul Poiretâs sister. It was his first bird, dating from 1912. It was a beautiful bird with an enormous stomach, but I still hankered after the âBird in Spaceâ which was so different. I asked Nellie, whom he called âNellitskaâ, to go and try to patch up the row for me. I then went back to his studio and we began to discuss the sale all over again. This time we fixed the price in francs, and by buying them in New York I saved a thousand dollars on the exchange. Brancusi felt cheated, but accepted the money.
Brancusi polished all his sculptures by hand. I think that is why they are so beautiful. This âBird in Spaceâ was to give him several weekâs work. By the time he had finished it the Germans were near Paris, and I went and fetched it in my little car to have it packed and shipped away in time. Tears were streaming down Brancusiâs face. I was genuinely touched. I never knew why he was so upset, but assumed it was because he was parting with his favourite bird.
I wanted also to buy a sculpture of Giacomettiâs. One day I found a badly damaged plaster cast of his in an art gallery on the rive gauche. I went to see him and asked him if he would mend it for me, if I bought it, as I wanted it cast in bronze. He told me that he had a much better one in his studio. As it proved to be just as good, I bought this one. His studio was in a tiny street off the Avenue duMaine and was so small I donât see how he could have worked in it. He looked like an imprisoned lion, with his lionesque head and an enormous shock of hair. His conversation and behaviour were extremely Surrealist and whimsical, like a divertimento of Mozart.
After he had the bronze
Brancusi was a marvellous little man with a beard andpiercing dark eyes. He was half an astute peasant and half a real god. It made you very happy to be with him, but unfortunately he got too possessive about me and wanted all of my time. He called me Pegitza and told me he liked going on long trips and formerly had taken beautiful girls with him. He now wanted to take me, but I would not go. He also liked to go to very elegant hotels in France and arrive dressed like a peasant, and then order the most expensive things possible. He had been to India to visit the Maharajah of Indore, in whose garden he had placed three âBirds in Spaceâ, one in white marble, one in black and the third in bronze. He had also been back to Roumania, his own country, where the government had asked him to build public monuments. He was very proud of this. Most of his life had been very austerely led and devoted entirely to his work. He had sacrificed everything to this and had given up women for the most part, to the point of anguish. In his old age he was very lonely. He had a persecution complex and always thought people were spying on him. When he did not cook for me, he used to dress up and take me out to dinner. He loved me very much, but I never could get anything out of him. Laurence Vail suggested jokingly that I should marry Brancusi in order to inherit all his sculptures. I investigated the possibility, but soon discovered that he had other ideas and did not desire to have me as an heir. He would have preferred to sell me everything and then hide all the money in his wooden shoes.
After the row, I vanished from Brancusiâs life for several months, during which time I bought a much earlier bird of his, called âMaestroâ, for one thousand dollars, from Paul Poiretâs sister. It was his first bird, dating from 1912. It was a beautiful bird with an enormous stomach, but I still hankered after the âBird in Spaceâ which was so different. I asked Nellie, whom he called âNellitskaâ, to go and try to patch up the row for me. I then went back to his studio and we began to discuss the sale all over again. This time we fixed the price in francs, and by buying them in New York I saved a thousand dollars on the exchange. Brancusi felt cheated, but accepted the money.
Brancusi polished all his sculptures by hand. I think that is why they are so beautiful. This âBird in Spaceâ was to give him several weekâs work. By the time he had finished it the Germans were near Paris, and I went and fetched it in my little car to have it packed and shipped away in time. Tears were streaming down Brancusiâs face. I was genuinely touched. I never knew why he was so upset, but assumed it was because he was parting with his favourite bird.
I wanted also to buy a sculpture of Giacomettiâs. One day I found a badly damaged plaster cast of his in an art gallery on the rive gauche. I went to see him and asked him if he would mend it for me, if I bought it, as I wanted it cast in bronze. He told me that he had a much better one in his studio. As it proved to be just as good, I bought this one. His studio was in a tiny street off the Avenue duMaine and was so small I donât see how he could have worked in it. He looked like an imprisoned lion, with his lionesque head and an enormous shock of hair. His conversation and behaviour were extremely Surrealist and whimsical, like a divertimento of Mozart.
After he had the bronze
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