Please note that this sculpture was executed in 1949 and is unique.
Please note the complete provenance and additional exhibition history and literature references:
Buchholz Gallery, New York.
Selma and Israel Rosen, Baltimore (acquired from the above).
Otto Gerson Gallery (acquired from the above, June 1960).
Otto Preminger, New York (circa 1963).
By descent from the above to the present owner.
New York, Buchholz Gallery, Sculpture, 1951, no. 2 (illustrated).
The Baltimore Museum of Art, The Rosen Collection, July-September 1952.
New York, Valentin Gallery, Jean Arp, March 1954, no. 3.
Minneapolis, Walker Art Center, April-May 1954.
New York, The Museum of Modern Art, Arp, October-November 1958, p. 123, no. 91 (illustrated, p. 86).
The Baltimore Museum of Art, Modern Art for Baltimore, February-March 1957.
C. Wharton, The Sunday Sun, "A Doctor Catches Collecting Fever," 8 June 1952, p. A3 (illustrated).
C. Giedion-Welcker, Jean Arp, Stuttgart, 1957, p. 111, no. 99 (smaller marble version listed and illustrated, p. 110, no. 80, pl. 74).
Property from the Collection of Mrs. Otto Preminger
The name Otto Preminger usually prompts images of a strong-willed and sometimes controversial film director. As with most stereotypes there was much more to the man. True, my father was a film producer and director, but what only his closest friends and family knew, was his generosity of spirit, his great love of good food, good wine, and above all good art. He loved the bounties of life, not as possessions but for their intrinsic beauty.
At an early age, my father introduced me to museums and art galleries around the world. Although we did not always see eye to eye when it came to art, he taught me to appreciate and value different artistic aesthetics. I learned to love not only the final result of artistic creation but the creative process itself.
We traveled extensively during my early childhood. My mother, brother and I went to film locations around the world with my father as he shot films such as The Cardinal, In Harm's Way, and Advise and Consent. He would take us to the museums of Paris, Rome and London; I was mesmerized by the Chagall stained glass at the Galerie Maeght in Saint-Paul-de-Vence and adored our Saturday afternoons in New York at The Museum of Modern Art or walking up and down Madison Avenue looking in the galleries.
The walls of our townhouse were filled with my father's collection. Over the years the art became part of the family. As in any family, there were bound to be mishaps: like the time my father let the bathtub overflow and a soggy ceiling collapsed above a large Miró hanging in the living room below, or when a precariously balanced Calder mobile kept getting knocked over and reassembled before my father came home. Then there was the Kandinsky, on sale here at Christie's [8 November 2006, lot 4]. In 1974, it was stolen from my father's Fifth Avenue office. I remember the excitement and intrigue the incident conjured as detectives arrived at our home and Interpol tapped our phones. The drama ended somewhat anticlimactically however when it was found in a gallery in Switzerland and returned without incident.
This fortunate childhood lead to what would be for me a lifelong love of art. I studied art history at Smith College and later "art law" when attending law school. Whether fortunate enough to own great artworks or simply afforded the opportunity to view them, the exposure to art is one of the greatest gifts a parent can impart. For that, I thank my father very much.