Willem van Roij has been an invaluable research assistant for this book, but he has far exceeded what that term implies. Possessed of enormous intellect and dedicated to the particular pleasures of looking at world-class art, Willem has, for the past dozen years, epitomized patience and diligence in helping me to develop a portrait of the complex, often elusive, Piet Mondrian. With energy and tenacity, Willem has also enabled me to present the paintings in what I hope is all their glory. I could not have asked for a more tenacious and thoughtful colleague. And his personal generosity is off the charts.
Vicky Wilson—so brilliant and perceptive as an editor—has made it possible for me to write with a freedom that has been one of the luxuries of my life. After fifty-one years, Vicky left Alfred A. Knopf to write full-time at the end of 2023, but she has remained engaged with this book through its actual publication. As with the five other books I have written with her guidance over a period of forty years, she has been infinitely encouraging and insightful, and given me the chance of trying to realize my goal of extending human pleasure and understanding through the plenitude of art and architecture. I will always be grateful to the lively, worldly Gloria Loomis for having introduced us initially and recognized the potential of the very particular relationship that can exist between a writer and an editor.
Morgan Hamilton, the new editor of this book, and long a partisan of Mondrian’s work, has been saintly. Entering the scene at the start of 2024 at a pivotal moment of the book’s production, she has engaged in the project wholeheartedly, with gusto and depth. Ben Shields, whom I first encountered as Vicky’s assistant, is a true man of letters as well as a perpetually helpful and supportive colleague. He is quick-witted and brilliant, and it has been a delight to work with him on a myriad of elements of the publication. I am also immensely grateful to Cassandra Pappas, the text designer; Jennifer Carrow, the jacket designer; and Edward Allen, the production editor. And my great thanks go to Reagan Arthur, publisher at Alfred A. Knopf, not only for her engagement with details of this book but also for the wonderful longtime friendship my wife and I continue to enjoy with her and her husband, the gifted artist Scott Beck.
Without the remarkable Josh Slocum—tireless, ever patient, creative in his approach to all problems, and uniquely intelligent and kind—a lot that has happened in my life and with this book in particular would not have been possible. He is an extraordinary individual, and approaches life with cheer and humanism, and with qualities that include a flair for design, an immense gift as a filmmaker, and the profound vision of a talented historian.
Anne Sisco—so astute and diligent as well as droll, and uniquely attuned to the English language—has been wonderful. She has immense personal grace and daunting intelligence. The indefatigable Philippe Corfa, with his unique skills at deciphering even my most frenzied handwriting, has been essential to the completion of this book. He is a remarkable individual: immensely competent, astute, and thorough. Peter Ginna gave sage advice with great acuity and unstinting generosity.
I am grateful to Nick Serota for having suggested, at a time when there was no other biography of Mondrian, that I write one. Nick has been both a supportive reader and a warm and considerate friend, and it has been my good luck to have had him as an ally concerning the activities of the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation as well as my writing.
William Clark has been far more than a “literary agent.” Not only has he attended to many details brilliantly but he has been a supportive and caring friend. He gives excellent counsel and enables me to believe in the future with happy anticipation of our next projects together.
Ina Rilke did an extraordinary job translating into English all the material that was originally in Dutch. Given that Mondrian used language in a highly personal and idiosyncratic way, this required imagination and perceptiveness of the highest order; Ina’s approach has been of infinite help in making him come alive for the reader. She translated not just the material that ended up in the finished book but a great deal more, all of it vital to my access to Mondrian’s complex thought processes and life experiences.
Hans Renders encouraged me to write my doctoral thesis on Mondrian’s early years and mentored me in getting my Ph.D. from the University of Groningen. Throughout the process, he was as kind and fun-loving as he was exacting. I am especially grateful to Wietse Coppes, curator for the RKD’s Mondrian and De Stijl archives, for introducing me to Willem van Roij and for being such a fine colleague throughout the process of searching for material vital to this book. Martina Yamin, a long-standing friend as well as granddaughter of Martijn Sanders, helped me from the very start, as did her splendid cousin, Ben Sanders. Carroll Janis provided wonderful recollections of knowing Mondrian as a child, and I was lucky enough to have the chance to discuss my subject in some depth with his father, Sidney Janis. Madalena Holtzman kindly showed me Mondrian’s collection of phonograph records—a tremendous experience—and I am grateful for her help concerning the illustrations for this book; she is an exemplar of graciousness and efficiency. Hans Janssen was helpful in showing me the early work.
Real friends are rare, and I consider myself blessed that for over half a century three individuals have made my life more enjoyable and provided balm to my soul. George Gibson, a phenomenal human being whom I first met in 1966, has been unfailingly warm, compassionate, and wise. Sandy Schwartz, whom I have known since our college days, is as he has always been: brilliant, funny, courageous, and emotionally supportive. I first came to know Mickey Cartin when I was about ten years old (and he was nine); among other things, we still laugh ourselves silly together, and his intelligence and ability to connect add to the bounty of my life.
Alan Riding is a newcomer to the scene—we have known each other for only a couple of decades—but what a stalwart and caring friend he is. Pierre-Alexis Dumas, so perceptive on a human scale and so attuned to the splendor of visual art, is, with his warmth and insightfulness, a consistent source of ballast, his wonderful family a bonus to our friendship. Charlie Kingsley—perpetually upbeat, a model of stability and rigor and kindness—has been an ally in matters Albersian for nearly fifty years as well as a great friend on the tennis and squash courts; an exemplar of integrity, he is also enormous fun to be with. Paolo Papone—priest, art historian, skier, rock climber—has been a fantastic mate with whom to explore the human mind. Dario Jucker has guided me in the battle against forgeries of paintings by Josef Albers, with values and principles that are increasingly rare in the world and with an intelligence of the highest order; moreover, he has a fantastic flair for bonding about important matters. A model of personal bravery and perceptiveness, he is a dream of a friend as well as a delightful companion on the ski slopes. David Leiber—a quintessential enjoyer of great food and wine as well as existence itself—adds immense pleasure to what without him would merely be “work.” Ruth Agoos Villalovos, beautiful in every sense of the word, changed my life by introducing me to Anni and Josef Albers; I am forever beholden to her for that gift and for so much else. Bruno Racine, so sensitive and gifted, has led to my feeling at home in Paris, and he and his family connect with a warmth and kindness that are life-enhancing. François Gibault, one of the most remarkable people I know—erudite, courageous, and exceptionally kind—has also been marvelous concerning the issue of Albers fakes and in having me honored in France. Stefan Stein has been a fount of understanding, perceptiveness, and insight, always with his keen aesthetic sensibility as well as brilliant and original mind. Aline Foriel-Destezet, who has been a marvelous companion in the work of Le Korsa (an organization I founded in Senegal), has shared her love of music with rare generosity. Daphne Astor—so astute, vibrant, and caring—has an aliveness and wit and intelligence that I cherish; her support has been unfailing. Fabrice Hergott is a friend with whom I can discuss art, children, sports, and love, always feeling that we could go on for hours more; he has depth and kindness in spades. Hugh O’Donnell and Catherine Hegarty, the most gracious and attentive of friends, are delightful companions in rural Ireland, whether at tennis or swimming in the bracing waters of Prison Cove or with sublime food and wine in the warmth of their dining room. Fiona Kearney’s generosity and energy and intelligence have been over the top; she is a dynamo, and the truest of allies. Laura Mattioli helped me believe in the importance of this book ever since its inception some twelve years ago. Louis Valentin’s insights about our work in Senegal and his diplomacy and intellectual depth as well as his humor and kindness are a perpetual boon to me. Romain Langlois, while I know him mainly on the squash court, is a connoisseur not just of the pleasures of the table but of life itself, with a rare understanding of the priorities of one’s family. Luca Guadagnino has as keen an eye as anyone I have ever met and is always creating with sheer genius; to work with him is a scintillating adventure. Hallie Thorne still has the spirit, intelligence, and ability to encourage she has had since we first worked together in the summer of 1967. John Doyle is not just one of the most delightful people imaginable with whom to play tennis but also a profoundly kind and thoughtful human being. Allen Minor has been a pal ever since our high school days when, memorably, we thrilled to the same breakthrough chapel talks about civil rights; it was with his usual perspicacity and humor that Allen came up with the splendid Saul Steinberg portrait of Mondrian that is now in this book. Ambra Medda always outdoes herself with her exceptional spark and energy and knowledge. Dena Kaye has been sheer fun since my first meeting her when I was eight years old, and her generosity to the people of Senegal has been nothing short of breathtaking. Michelle Obama, while I have met her only once, talked about the impact of art and its importance in our lives in a way that was simply glorious. André Tamone has taught me a lot about why the pleasures of skiing, the purity of all the white and then the ravishing blue, the wonder of fluidity, the merits of letting go, are connected so directly with where this book began.
I am also immensely indebted to numerous individuals in the institutions mentioned in the endnotes and illustration credits; each has contributed to the possibility of realizing this book as I wanted.
To look at the art of Mondrian affords one a very particular form of joy. I associate the sheer pleasure I take in his work, from the best of the early landscapes through the gems of abstraction, with those of my wonderful teachers and friends with whom the experience of looking at art has had such richness. These are people with the rare capacity to understand and share the plenitude of the seeable. I am indebted, in memory, to the following individuals who with open hearts expanded the thrills of the visual world for me during their lifetimes: Irving Katzenstein, the first person I knew who made artistic creation the focal point of his life; Sanford Ballard Dole Low, an enthusiastic high school art teacher, painter, and museum director; Ethel Reuber, whose exigence about the English language and enthusiasm for my work made a lifelong impact; Sam Wagstaff, a brilliant museum curator and generous friend who enabled me to organize a show of artistic masterpieces when I was still in high school; Caroline Fox Weber, my mother, an exemplar of panache, and a fine painter whose love of music connected powerfully with her intoxication with the act of painting, and who understood the priorities of an artist’s life; Saul Weber, my extraordinary father, a connoisseur of graphic design who supported my enthusiasm for Mondrian from the time I was ten years old; Joseph Savoie Stookins, a French teacher whose hour-long lecture, when I was a senior in high school, on the Gothic cathedral changed my life forever; Allen Lundie Wise, another great high school teacher, whose respect for the written word and whose teaching of Robert Browning’s lines that “a man’s life must exceed his grasp” were life-changing; Meyer Schapiro, whose feeling for medieval art was as vital to my university education as was his eye for modernism and who encouraged me to write about what I saw; Jane Rosenthal, who made illuminated manuscripts as magical as they should be; F. W. Dupee, who encouraged me to see Shakespearean themes in modern art; Vincent Scully, who was unequaled in his evocation of the flow of space in architecture; Rufus Stillman, who enabled me to organize the art shows of my dreams in the early 1970s, and had an incredible eye for architecture and the courage to enable greatness to be realized; Herb Agoos, an independent connoisseur of rare aesthetic sensibility; Anni Albers, a pioneering, intrepid, and caring individual who pursued the glories of universal abstraction in much the way that Mondrian did; Josef Albers, whose passion for seeing and for personal integrity has been a mainstay of my life; Leland Bell, a phenomenal painter who provided insight into all that a painter’s life can be; Louisa Matthiasdottir, who painted light and evoked visual energy as have few other artists; Nick Ohly, who thrilled to the seeable, and to so much else, and was a prince of a friend; Rosamond Bernier, unique in her flair for evoking the presence of so many of the great artists of the last century, and a devoted friend; Hans Farman, a fabulous brother to Anni Albers, who had unequaled humor and knew how to extract manna from heaven; Sean O’Riordain, a connoisseur of the human comedy and the most understanding of companions, with whom kayak outings in the Irish Sea were among life’s greatest luxuries; Peggy Guggenheim, to see her in Venice was to experience imagination at an apogee, and the installation of her superb Mondrian in her dining room animated the house; Albert J. Solnit, who helped me to delve into the realm of personal truth; Jack Kenney, who demonstrated a rare flair for living and applied philosophical wisdom to all concerning the game of tennis; Jill Silverman, whose enthusiasm for the Wadsworth Atheneum in the 1930s was infectious; John Eastman, to go to an art exhibition with him was to have my senses expanded immeasurably, and he had a rare gift of friendship and a liveliness that feel immortal; Joseph Hirshhorn, a little man who lived on a very big scale and had a Mondrianesque energy; Pearl A. Weber, her wisdom and insight and grace remain mainstays long after her lifetime; Andrea Warburg Kaufman, so generous, so bright, so funny; Leslie Waddington, as much a scholar as he was an art dealer, and always encouraging me with regard to this book; Kay Swift, human vivacity itself, as warm of heart as she was glamorous, and with unique flair as a composer; Lincoln Kirstein, an exemplar of artistic passion and independent thinking; Bettina Warburg, as perceptive as she was philanthropic, and so personally encouraging to me; Frédéric Edelmann, the daring and insightful architecture critic of Le Monde, whose review of my Le Corbusier enabled me to persevere with the current book, and who became such a kind and entertaining friend; Edward M. M. Warburg, a bright and courageous patron of modernism, so witty and alert to the human comedy; Jackie Onassis, she brought such force and charm to everything she did, and had rare feeling for writing about art; Lee V. Eastman, a person of heart who realized human connections with rare verve, and who sculpted the legacy of Anni and Josef Albers with acumen; Nancy Lewis, an exemplar of warmth and charm with whom every encounter was a boost; Morley Safer, whose joie de vivre, generosity, and passion for visual art are memorable; Dick Lewis, who always gave of himself unstintingly and encouraged me to savor the writer’s life; Balthus, who had more in common with Mondrian than you might imagine and whose abilities as a painter were sheer genius; Bette Davis, yes, her, for making me feel I could tell a story; Ruth Lord, so alert and charismatic in real life that it is hard to believe that she is no longer technically alive; Regina Tierney, who knew so much about painting, and was such a courageous and perceptive human being; Philip Johnson, a cynic but one with a rare love of classical beauty; Virginia Zabriskie, a remarkable gallerist and a brilliant companion for ice-skating; Cleve Gray, whose dedication to the artist’s life was so remarkable; Hugh Gough, who made the power of the harpsichord come alive with flair; John Richardson, ever amusing, and an example of what it means for a biographer to immerse himself in his subject; Francine du Plessix Gray, whose gift for language made her company as remarkable as her writing; Achim Bourchardt-Hume, whose knowledge of art and emotional depth were vast; King-lui Wu, whose feeling for excellence, whether in cuisine or architecture, made him an exceptional companion; Denise René, so passionate about pure abstraction and so full of earthy perceptions; W. Gray Horton, a painter’s son with a flair for the good life who made me at home in the England of Evelyn Waugh; and Rosalie Akst Fox, who opened my eyes to music and poetry and to love itself. I hope that something of each of these remarkable individuals lives on in this book.
Meanwhile, I am grateful in myriad ways to the following people who continue to bring immense joy to my life and who have given me the will to carry on for the twelve years during which I wrote this book. These spectacular individuals grace my existence with heart and soul, and each in his or her own way has contributed to my ability to write this book: Barbara Ryden, John Ryden, Pierre Otolo, Shane O’Neill, Carolina Duran, Allegra Itsoga, Emma Lewis, Matthias Persson, Elsie Childs, Sam Childs, Magueye Ba, Danjoe O’Sullivan, Maimouna Sow, Howard Marks, Nancy Marks, James Costos, Michael Smith, Lo-Yi Chan, Louis Racine, Candace Kraus, Mel Winn, Elisabeth Nijhuis-Wiggers, Clim van Roij, Sabijn van Roij, Tiber van Roij, Hans van Roij, Anne van Roij, Sjoerd van Faassen, Marty Bax, Gina Newfield, Toshiko Mori, Massamba Camara, Veronica Sommaruga, Laura Jacobs, Daniela Bertazzoni, Emma Nordberg, Chris Chan, Tom Nash, Amy Tai, Margaret Jay, Mike Adler, Daniele Reiber, Brooke Rapaport, Richard Rapaport, Alan Yorker, Ellen Weber Libby, Mark Simon, Stefano Donati, Mads Aaserud, John Sornberger, Jaime Yaya Barry, Édouard Detaille, David Roberts, Micky Astor, Fritz Horstman, Thomas Clotteau, Nick Murphy, Jay Eastman, Louise Eastman, Lee Eastman II, Jane Grossman, Didier Schulman, Martien Mulder, Samuel Gaube, Jonathan Laib, Erika Goldman, Alan Cristea, Ruth Lande Shuman, Brenda Danilowitz, Amy Jean Porter, Karis Medina, Samuel McCune, Jeannette Redensek, Kyle Goldbach, Richard Hagemann, Andrew Seguin, Brigitte Degois, Veronique Wallace, Gilles Degois, John Gordon, James MacAuley, Kathy Agoos, Julie Agoos, Peter Agoos, Ted Agoos, Estrellita Brodsky, Dan Brodsky, Giacomo Rossi, Amy Arnsten, Temma Bell, Walter Milla, Tom Doyle, Kippy Dewey, Judy Dobias, Gretchen Kingsley, Giovanni Rossi, Robert Devereux, Jodie Eastman, Prue Glass, Alex Guillaumin, Kristina McLean, Edward Barber, James Green, Julia Garimorth, Manuel Herz, Daniel Humm, Ray Coppinger, Lucas Zwirner, Monica Zwirner, David Zwirner, Lottie Hadley, Virginia Esteban, Ian Dench, Ray Nolan, Conor Doyle, Mareta Doyle, Tom Selquist, Sam Haverstick, Adhiraj Shekhawat, Lawrence O’Hana, Patrick Dewavrin, Mamadou Kanté, Shannon Hart, Lassana Keita, Ann Smith, Dave Smith, Beth-Ann Smith, Ken Madden, Paul Kiely, Giovanni Hänninen, Alberto Amoretti, Heinz Liesbrock, Maurice Moore, Sara Ohly, Zebedee Helm, Peter Cooper, Tim Prentice, Seamus O’Reilly, Fiona O’Reilly, François Olislaeger, Ascher Fox, Gustave de Staël, Maheshwar Pauriah, Moussa Sene, Jane Safer, Eve Tribouillet, Mary O’Reilly, Olivier Bayrou, Victor Tehehu, Raz Yunus, Aoife Riordain, Morgan Giacalone, Cathy Riordain, Dee Murdane, Jilly Sansone, Laurie Riordain, JoAnn Riordain, Sokari Douglas Camp, Christophe Person, Elena Prentice, Sacha Yankovitch, Philip Rylands, Hannah Starman, Bénédicte Delay, Rupert Taylor, Ariane Coulandre, Brooke Kamin Rapaport, Richard Rapaport, Hadrien Mansour, and Arthur André.
Katharine Weber, with her unique intelligence and pithy humor, has been an extraordinary wife for what will soon be half a century. Lucy Swift Weber has a spark and energy and warmth that have no equal; she is one of the lights of my life. Charlotte Fox Weber is, quite simply, miraculous; if I get started on the subject of her brilliance and her kindness, these acknowledgments will be doubled in length. Robbie Smith has been not just a son-in-law but also a true friend. Charles Lemonides, recently, to my great joy, a son-in-law as well, is as bright as they come. Lisa Sornberger has a generosity of heart and a strength that have made her appearance in my life a source of ineffable happiness. Albert Fox Cahn—immensely intelligent, idealistic, startlingly effective in his work—is a nephew of whom I am immensely proud. Nancy Weber, ever since she hung a reproduction of Trafalgar Square in her triangular apartment on Seventh Avenue South in the early 1960s, has been a true partner in the love of Mondrian; when we viewed an early landscape together in a show at the Janis Gallery in the 1970s, we were overcome with parallel emotions. To have a sibling of such kindness and imagination and talent as a writer has been more than fortunate.
And then there are the dedicatees of this book. Wilder Fox Smith: There is no way of expressing how much I love you, and the joy that your kindness, wit, artistry, alertness, and charisma bring to my life. Besides being impressively athletic with a keen sense of the pleasure of sports, you are funny, compassionate, remarkably modest, sharp as a tack, and full of heart. Beau Fox Smith: Even though not yet four years old as I write this, you have a humor and spark and warmth beyond all ken. Your strength of character is sure to serve you well in life. Like your brother, you are as entertaining as you are energetic, and that is saying a lot. And Wilder and Beau: You are both, of course, the future, and you give me great hope for it. What fabulous human beings you are.
—NFW, Paris, January 2024