Interview of Marc Lowenberg
Lillian Bassman, Across the Restaurant: Barbara Mullen in a dress by Jacques Fath. Le Grand Vefour, Paris, 1949, © Estate of Lillian Bassman / Courtesy of Staley-Wise Galley, New York, Courtesy Staley-Wise Galley, New York”.
Marc Lowenberg interviewed by Andrea Blanch
Andrea Blanch: Let's talk about your passion for photography. When did it all begin?
Marc Lowenberg: Around 30 to 40 years ago, I met an interior designer named Vincent Wolf through friends of mine. The first time I ever saw black and white photography was in one of the apartments he designed, in which he put up a rail against the wall and placed the black and white photographs against the wall. What was interesting about it was that it was presented in such a way that for the first time in my life, I looked at a black-and-white photograph as if it were art. I don’t really remember who the photographers were, but I suspect all of the photos were taken by Richard Avedon.
AB: Had you ever thought about photography in that way before? Was it the presentation of the photo that enticed you?
ML: I was never cognizant of photographs. But when I saw that display, I saw photographs through different eyes. I was young and lacked the sophistication to collect photography. Many years later, I befriended a patient of mine whose name was Sonia Kashuk. She was a celebrity makeup artist, and she and her husband invited me to her house for dinner. In their house was an entire wall filled with fashion photographs that they had collected, including photographs by Lillian Bassman. I was mesmerized by them. No one else at that dinner party was as entranced by them as was I! She gave me the name of the gallery that represented Bassman and I went to Stacey Wise; and that was the beginning of my fashion photography collection. For years I only had eyes for Lillian Bassman’s work. My intention wasn’t to become a fashion photography collector, I just loved Bassman’s work.
AB: How did your collection evolve from there?
ML: At different stages in my life, through my travels and meeting new people, and through my own curiosity, I was introduced to other artists. When I was in Palm Beach, for example, I saw some Robert Longo works in a gallery and they just spoke to me. They were very expensive, six feet tall by three-and-a-half feet wide and I bought them. They were my second acquisition. As the years went by, I became more educated in photography and bought more works at auctions. I have over fifty photographs— more photographs than wall space. About five years ago when I was renovating my dental office, I said to my partners that I wanted it to look like an art gallery. I said I wanted black and white photographs all over my office. They told me it would look so boring and suggested colored photographs. I said I would be displaying my own collection around the office and since they didn’t have to pay for it, they agreed. I was astounded by the number of patients who walked into the office and instantly recognized and appreciated the photographs. At least once a week, a patient will compliment them. Even my partners have come around to love them!
Albert Watson “Sebastian in Issey Miyake, New York City”, 1989, Courtesy of Holden Luntz Gallery.
AB: You mentioned you were educating yourself by going to auctions. Were there other ways in which you were educating yourself? Did you go to galleries?
ML: Yes, over the years I became more sophisticated and yes, I went to galleries much more. At the Holden Luntz gallery in Palm Beach where I bought some photographs, a gallerist taught me all about them. The gallerists are so well-informed. One of them told me a funny story about the Palm Beach crowd who come in and say their dentist has these works on his wall, and she asks… was it Dr. Lowenberg?
AB: Did you feel that collecting photographs was an investment?
ML: I had no idea when I started collecting photographs that there was any economic value to it. It wasn’t like buying stocks, I just bought things I loved. But when I went to auctions I started keeping track of pricing.
AB: When did provenance and technique become important to you as a collector? For instance, Lillian Bassman developed her own process into something that was so singular, and you really have an eye for it.
ML: In all honesty, it’s not important to me at all, even though I am aware of it. Elliott Erwitt, who recently died, I happened to love his photography. I know that prior to his death, they kept printing new editions of his photography. I can’t even tell what things are worth, it has no monetary value to me. The auctioneers call me because they think I’d be interested in a photographer, but it’s not about the investment or the photographer but the image for me. I’m someone who simply responds to the visual.
AB: Would you say your collection consists solely of fashion photography?
ML: Most of the photographers I love started out working for magazines as editorial photographers. Lillian Bassman is the quintessential example of that. I don’t know who she worked with, but she was hired for fashion houses and it was well into her 70’s that someone discovered all her old negatives from shoots she’d done and started printing and selling them as commercial photographs. But all of them were shot to be in magazines. All the photographs I collect are from those times. The newer stuff doesn’t speak to me as much. Almost every photograph in my office has a romantic feel to it.
AB: You’re a romantic, that’s your vision! You and Elizabeth Taylor.
ML: I am a die-hard romantic so yes. Those are the images I selected.
© Harry Benson, Berlin Kiss, 1996, courtesy of Holden Luntz Gallery
AB: Have you seen any work that was made with AI that you liked?
ML: No, I hate it and I would never buy it. It’s like the Hunger Games of art, and the whole point is to be able to express yourself with it. I’m not a fan of the concept.
AB: Most people I know feel the same way you do.
ML: It takes away the spotlight from traditional artists.
AB: Do you know how many people shunned photography when it first came out? I didn’t think you’d like AI, knowing your sensibility, and what you would embrace.
ML: Think about it. You can mass-produce and flood the market with AI. Damien Hirst created a pavilion, you can do that a hundred times with AI, and then lose everything. I’m not surprised that you like it. I always thought of you as an independent thinker.
Lillian Bassman, Born to Dance: Margie Cato in a dress by Emily Wilkes, New York, 1950, © Estate of Lillian Bassman / Courtesy of Staley-Wise Gallery, New York, Courtesy Staley-Wise Galley, New York”.
AB: Do you like artists you see on Instagram?
ML: No. Everything I buy, I speak to people. At auction houses, I talked to salespeople, at galleries I talked to gallerists. I also worked with independent art consultants. I’ve always had a conversation with someone before buying a piece, about what the artist is about and what the piece is about. Vik Muniz, an artist who doesn’t fall into my romantic theme, is someone I learned about by seeing his work pop up again and again in auction houses.
AB: I like his celebrity works.
ML: I shy away from celebrity photographs in general. They become too much of who they’re trying to depict. I like anonymous people in art. The one work of his that I would want is a woman sitting in a chair, and there’s something very romantic about it. It’s not that I know so much about photography, I just go with my heart.
AB: Do you go to galleries that aren’t strictly photographic?
ML: No, but I’ll tell you a story. I was traveling in Toronto and saw this enormous photograph in the hotel lobby I was staying at. The hotel manager told me they were bought from a local gallery. I was only there for two days for a course, but I went to the gallery. I had never heard of the artist, Ellen von Unwerth, and her works aren’t romantic, but they were so striking to me. Her photographs work well in large formats. Have you seen the one in the reception desk in my office? It’s a woman standing with her hands in the air covered with a million butterflies behind her.
Lillian Bassman, Betty Threat, Harper's Bazaar, New York, 1957, © Estate of Lillian Bassman / Courtesy of Staley-Wise Gallery, New York, Courtesy Staley-Wise Galley, New York”.
AB: Have you changed your mind about certain people since you started collecting?
ML: No, I loved every single one of them. As I’m getting older, it doesn’t make sense to collect. I haven’t bought one in the last three or four years, as I have no wall space. I offered to give my son fifteen new photographs for his new apartment, and he only chose two. They were both Lillian Bassman’s.
ML: I don’t know if you ever noticed this, but when you come into the office there’s a sign that says “The Art of the Smile.”
AB: Yes, of course, I’ve noticed!
ML: I’ve always said that cosmetic dentistry is a type of artistry. It’s not a stretch to say that as a successful cosmetic dentist, I have a good eye for collecting art. It all falls into the same category.
