The Duchess of Alba Is Alive and Well on Audubon Terrace
AUDUBON TERRACE
How did the search for a proper home begin?
As Huntington’s book collections grew in size, the needfor space to house them became paramount. When he married his cousin Helen Gates Criss in 1895, his father made the couple a gift of a modest estate in Bay Shore, Long Island, along with three Spanish paintings from his own arsenal. Our young collector’s appetite whetted, he bought a rare collection of books in Seville and finding that French archaeologist Arthur Engel had abandoned his excavations at Italica, Huntington immediately leased the site to continue the work.
Paradoxically, out of endings come new beginnings. With the death of his father in 1900, he inherited the resources to make major acquisitions, and could finally begin to realize his long-held dream of a museum.
Named for naturalist and artist John James Audubon, the land is bounded by West 155th and 156th Streets in the neighborhood of Washington Heights, directly across from Trinity Cemetery, where Audubon and many of the Astor family members are buried. When Huntington chose the site, it was assumed that a cultural citadel would follow. But the adoption of the elevator and steel framing led real estate to develop vertically instead.
Huntington’s cousin designed the original buildings, along with famed architects Cass Gilbert and Stanford White. They housed the American Geographical Society, the Museum of the American Indian, the American Numismatic Society, and The Hispanic Society. (The first three have since moved). The two buildings housing the Academy of Arts and Letters were not completed until 1923 and 1930. Today, the Historic District, designated by the Landmarks Preservation Commission in 1979, is a complex of approximately eight Beaux Arts buildings.
But within a few months of the Society’s opening in 1908, Huntington’s passion would quickly move to a new discovery.
JOAQUÍN SOROLLA Y BASTIDA
Discovering Joaquín Sorolla, a Spanish painter, in a London gallery, Huntington was enamored by the radiant light and colors of the artist’s work, not unlike the best of Renoir or Monet. He made immediate plans for an exhibition.
“The success was unparalleled,” Figueroa assured. Over 160,000 visitors attended in one month and “Huntington and Sorolla became friends for life.” Lingering over such masterpieces as After the Bath, and a portrait of Louis Comfort’s Tiffany painting in his garden (which, according to my guide, is the favorite of the current director), it is easy to see the artist’s popular appeal.
We next headed into the Sorolla Room, which contains a monumental display of Sorolla’s Vision of Spain, commissioned by Huntington in 1910. Huntington’s vision was to fill the room with a series of canvases depicting contemporary life in Spain and Portugal with five years for Sorolla to complete the project. His cousin Charles Pratt Huntington formalized this western addition to the Main Building and began work. With the outbreak of World War I, the final installation and opening did not occur until 1926.
In Elche, Sorolla’s languorous ladies in their white dresses dazzle the eye. In Valencia, the colorful celebration seems to dance off the wall, imagined music trumpeting in the background, while Sevilla shows a procession of holy week worshipers with their black pointed hoods suggesting another side of traditional Spain, which is not meant to be ominous at all, according to Figueroa. I don’t doubt she is right, as the overall effect of this exhibit, with its many multi-themed panels, is overwhelmingly beautiful and uplifting to the eye.
This exhibit alone is worth the visit for young people and adults alike.
Energized by his early triumphs, Huntington purchased the Portrait of a Little Girl by Diego Velasquez from a London dealer. It is one of the most lovely and engaging portraits on the upper balcony of the main room. The face of the child predominates with the lightness of the skin tones and the trusting gaze which emanates from her black eyes. Velasquez wisely chose a background of brown tones which place the viewer’s attention squarely on the child.
Decorative Arts have been given more than a passing nod. The collection of Spanish lusterware, numbering over 150 pieces, is clearly the finest in the United States. Between the 15th and 17th centuries, this Spanish style of ceramics flourished as Islamic and Western traditions combined.
Huntington was devoted to sculpture as well, and just a short distance from the Duchess’ portrait, a hypnotic 17th century polychrome bust of St. Acisclos, patron saint of Cordoba by Pedro de Mena, sits waiting. The expression is unbelievably poignant, almost pained in its call for attention, and Figueroa pointed out to me the lengths the sculptor went to achieve its realism. The teeth, the glass eyes, the strokes of the mustache, were all part of a rampaging naturalistic style of the time.
It is this sculpture that is considered to be the most significant recent acquisition in the museum’s collection. Purchased by Director Mitchell Cotting from the Caylus Art Gallery in Madrid in 2004, it stands as a continuing testament to Huntington’s original vision. Figueroa added that unlike so many valuable artworks that are not allowed to leave the country under current laws, this one strangely was not judged as such, but is a stroke of good fortune for the Society.
Before exiting the main entrance, the visitor is faced with a monumental bronze equestrian statue of El Cid. This and limestone reliefs of Don Quixote and Boabdil also grace Audubon Terrace, all created by Huntington’s wife Anna Hyatt Huntington. Another building for galleries and storage on the north side of the Terrace was soon added, providing the perfect setting for El Cid, the unofficial symbol of the Society.
After Huntington’s death in 1955, new acquisitions have continued as part of his legacy. Murillo’s The Prodigal Son, circa 1656-65 is a major example. And, with over 600,000 books, the library offers invaluable research to new generations interested in the Spanish and Portuguese speaking worlds. Perhaps most significant are the major exhibitions that have been mounted at museums here and in Spain with audiences numbering in the hundreds of thousands. In 2013, a major exhibition of 19th century artists, including highlights of Sorolla’s work, will travel to Madrid.
And for those unable to traverse to Europe to relive the revival of Spanish art in modern times, one can only hope that New York’s visitors and residents will venture uptown to this unforgettably glorious site. The Duchess is waiting.
