High life
Writing wrongs
Taki
n Tuesday, Count Balthasar Klos- sowski de Rola gave a masked ball in his Rossiniere chalet, and a wonderful party it was. For any of you unfamiliar with the name of my host, he is better known as the painter Balthus, whose biography by a low- life named Norman Fox Weber was bril- liantly reviewed in The Spectator by Frederic Raphael (19 February). I say bril- liantly because Raphael sure got Fox Weber right for getting Balthus wrong. Raphael has probably forgotten more about art and life than the American Fox Weber will ever know, so writing his stinging review of the book must have been enjoyable. There's nothing more satisfying than delivering a low blow to a low-blow expert.
I call Fox Weber a lowlife because he ingratiated himself to Balthus and his fami- ly — the artist is in his mid-nineties — and then came up with the astounding discov- ery that Balthus was not a count at all, but descended from 'Jews of Breslau'. No shit, Sherlock! I always thought that what mat- tered was what an artist produced, not what name or personality he or she assumed. (Anyway, if Fox Weber thinks he discovered something phoney about Balthus, he's yet again dead wrong. Stories about Balthus's origins and title have been circulating for years, especially by people who cannot afford his prices.) So good and to the point was Raphael's review that I have nothing to add. Only that I know Balthus and his wife Setsuko, as well as his children. My friend Elise Goulandris, who owns many of his works, first took me to the great man's chalet about five years ago. I purchased a couple of his works from Martin Summers, and then, two weeks ago, I wiped Martin out during a charitable auction in Gstaad for one of Setsuko's oils. (The proceeds went to Saanen Hospital, and Mark Birley and Harry's Bar did the catering. Needless to say I got so drunk I spent much too much money, and now I am dying to get ill so I can test the new instruments we bought for the hospital) I am not an art expert, but I love Balthus's work. In my humble opinion, Gianni Agnelli owns the best Balthus I've ever seen — naturally, a young girl. 'The Guitar Lesson' is owned by the Niarchos family and I sneaked a peek once. Stavros Niarchos kept it in his bedroom. As Raphael pointed out, Fox Weber is a callow biographer on whom a joke may have been played by Balthus. (Anyone as unsophisti- cated as to refer to the family of Marie- Laure de Noailles as 'the de Noailles' must have intrigued the extremely sophisticated Balthus.) What I don't understand is why anybody would want to go after a man who has remained reclusive all his life and has only recently become very rich. Whether you think he's a great artist or just below, what is undeniable is that he's an artist who spent most of his life as an impoverished bohemian. If he now affects a grand lifestyle, more power to him. He certainly does not pursue glory, witness his refusal to go to New York for the Metropolitan exhi- bition of his work. In fact, Balthus has never visited America, where artists are taken extremely seriously and are celebrat- ed even more than pop stars. Braque once said that 'Objects don't exist for me except insofar as a rapport exists between them and myself. When one attains this harmony, one reaches a sort of intellectual existence — what I can only describe as a sense of peace — which makes everything possible and right . . If one was to substitute the word people for objects, one would perhaps understand Balthus better. Fox Weber was not the man to do it, however. If addiction to truth can make one many enemies, addiction to pet- tiness makes one a fool and a lowlife, and I'd rather have enemies any day. Balthus's work will remain, Fox Weber's book will be shredded sooner rather than later for tak- ing up valuable space in warehouses where old Playboy magazines are stored. But enough of the Foxy Weber. The weather has been perfect, the snow terrific, the partying non-stop. The Greek royal family arrived staying with Aleko Goulan- dris, which gave some gravitas to the din- ners. No one I know is better informed of the geo-political situation than King Con- stantine. He, Bill Buckley and myself lunched a trois, and, for the first time in my life, other people did most of the talking. It was enough to drive me to start a society that I will tell you all about next time.
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