Theater Review—

‘Old Masters’ Asks: What Is Art?

By Julie Stern

NEW HAVEN — “Europe has a great deal of art. America has a great deal of money.” The man who noticed this was Joe Duveen, an Englishman who inherited his father’s import-export business and parlayed it into a huge fortune and a knighthood for himself, by rearranging this balance, helping wealthy Americans with names like Mellon, Rockefeller, Frick, Huntington, Morgan and Kress to amass great collections of Renaissance art.

But while these American millionaires had the wherewithal to afford the pictures, they lacked the taste and background to be able to recognize which pieces were “great” enough to be worth collecting. This is where Bernard Berenson came in.

A Harvard educated, Lithuanian immigrant, Berenson established a reputation as an art historian and authenticator of Italian, Dutch and French Renaissance paintings. While Duveen was the brash, commercial bargainer — locating the paintings and selling them at a handsome profit (his customers were happy to shell out because that meant they were getting something really important) — Berenson was the serious, scholarly connoisseur, who explained to them why it was important and made them feel cultured, as well as rich.

What was less widely known was that Duveen and Berenson were close friends, working together to close many a deal. Berenson could convince a collector he needed the painting that Duveen was able to obtain for him. As a result, by the 1920s, Berenson was extremely rich himself, able to afford a beautiful estate in Florence, the Villa Tatti, where he lived with his wife, Mary, an art historian in her own right, and his much younger mistress, Nicky Mariano.

The friendship between the two men was damaged by a lawsuit in 1920, but it  ruptured completely in 1937, over a question of authenticating a painting of “Two Shepherds Adoring the Virgin.” Duveen was promoting it as a rare work by Giorgione, but Berenson believed it to be by Giorgione’s more prolific pupil, Titian. This came at a time in history when, with war looming and Mussolini in power, the Berensons, at this point in their 70s, were suddenly very short of money.

This episode is the crux of Simon Gray’s play, The Old Masters, in which Duveen offers the  financial security of a partnership in his business, in exchange for Berenson’s keeping his opinion private. Performances of the work continue until February 13 at Long Wharf Theatre.

Alexander Dodge’s breathtaking scenic design — in keeping with Long Wharf’s traditional high standards — recreates the Berensons’ Tuscan villa, first from the outside, an old but lovingly detailed two story orange stucco building covered with vines, and then, in the second act, from the inside, where we see the immense library, the paintings, and the period furniture, assembled over decades by a man who surrounded himself with things he loved for their beauty.

In fact, the whole play, especially the first act, is less a drama than a field trip transporting the audience to a specific time and place: a museum replica, complete with witty conversation about “the duck” (Berenson’s contemptuous nickname for Il Duce) that leaves you wondering what the purpose is, and where it’s all going.

We see these people at a moment in time that is past their prime. The strength of the play is in the portrayal of personalities, through excellent acting. This is especially true of Brian Murray as the ebullient, bear-hugging, Duveen, reaching out to his old friends, delivering a devastatingly funny putdown of his nouveau riche client, Samuel Kress, and all the while playing a bargaining game himself.

Equally strong is Shirley Knight as Mary Berenson, knowing she will die soon, anxious to leave something for her daughters and grandchildren from her previous marriage, and suffering the indignity of being tended to by her “secretary” Nicky Mariano, the woman with whom she must share the husband she loves.

Sam Waterston, as Berenson, is probably the biggest name in the cast. His performance, however, is less satisfying. I’ve enjoyed him very much in other plays at Long Wharf, but this time he comes across a little more like Jack McCoy than Bernard Berenson. There is too much of the Puritannical Yankee twang, and not enough of the European aesthete.

By the end, the play is interesting, informative, and raises good questions about what makes a work of art valuable and desirable. Is it enough to love it for its own sake, or does it matter who painted it, and that it is rare and expensive? Are the great American collections more, or less, meaningful, because their owners were relatively ignorant? Was Duveen’s energetic pursuit of as many great works as possible, as important a contribution as Berenson’s, even if Duveen was focused on profits and dealing, rather than appreciation?

Call 203-787-4282 or visit LongWharf.org for curtain and ticket details.