John Richardson, the British-born art historian and curator who devoted more than a quarter century to writing a monumental four-volume biography of Pablo Picasso, died on Tuesday at his home in Manhattan while still at work on the final installment. He was 95.
His death was confirmed by Shelley Wanger, his editor at Alfred A. Knopf.
In a seven-decade career, Mr. Richardson wore about as many hats in the art world as anyone could. Along with being a historian and curator, he was at various times an artist himself, a dealer, an industrial designer, an auction-house executive and a collector.
Self-taught but possessing an unfailing eye and impeccable taste, he could spot a misattributed painting at an auction or zero in on the only gem among piles of junk at a flea market.
He also collected a wide circle of friends, including artists — Picasso, Georges Braque, Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud, Andy Warhol — as well as writers: Jean Cocteau, W. H. Auden, Nancy Mitford and Tennessee Williams. A celebrated raconteur, he was described by W magazine as “the man all New York wants to sit beside at dinner.”
Mr. Richardson was an usher at the photographer Cecil Beaton’s memorial service and delivered a eulogy at Warhol’s funeral. He also advised the cosmetics mogul Helena Rubenstein on which works of art in her collection were valuable and which were fakes.
For about a month in the late 1960s, he rented his London apartment in the fabled Albany complex to Greta Garbo, who lived there under the pseudonym Miss Brown.
“The entire time Garbo was there, my housekeeper, who loved the movies, had no idea who she really was,” Mr. Richardson recently recalled at dinner in his Manhattan loft.
His classic good looks made him a magnet for artists. Freud and Warhol painted him. In July he flew to Los Angeles at the invitation of David Hockney to sit for a portrait.
The British artist Jenny Saville, another friend, photographed him several times, both clothed and nude. “He has a potent mixture of life force and vulnerability,” she said in an email before his death. “I like the way he leans into you when he’s talking, like a soothsayer.”
Freud once said of Mr. Richardson, “His Proust-like instincts about the foibles and intricacies of the people around him made him ideally equipped as a human portraitist, a biographer.”
Indeed, chronicling the life and work of Picasso was his ultimate triumph. Michiko Kakutani, then the chief book critic of The New York Times, called his multivolume “A Life of Picasso” “magisterial and definitive.”
“Mr. Richardson leaves us not only with a deep appreciation of Picasso’s Promethean ambition and prodigious fecundity,” she wrote, “but also with a shrewd understanding of his tumultuous, subversive and often disturbing art.”
The first volume, which covered Picasso’s earliest years, 1881-1906, was published in 1991 and won the Whitbread Award, honoring writers from Britain and Ireland. The next two volumes came out in 1996 and 2007 and covered the artist’s life through age 50. The fourth volume was close to completion at Mr. Richardson’s death, although no publication date has been set, Ms. Wanger said.
Mr. Richardson used his friendship with Picasso, his family and friends — along with exhaustive research — to chronicle the artist’s life and work in granular detail, employing colorful stories and previously unpublished material.
He first met Picasso in Paris in the summer of 1948, when Douglas Cooper, the art historian with whom Mr. Richardson lived for 10 years, took him to the artist’s studio. Mr. Richardson, who was 24 at the time, was immediately captivated.
“This was in Paris after the war, and Picasso would hold open studio days once or twice a week,” he recalled in an interview. “They weren’t exactly a mob scene. The first time I went, there must have been around 25 people there, and you’d have a two-minute chat with Picasso, nothing very serious.”
The two did not meet again until about 1951, when Mr. Richardson and Mr. Cooper visited Picasso at his home in Vallauris, on the coast of southeastern France.
“At one moment he turned his eyes on me and held my gaze for long enough to induce a responsive quiver,” Mr. Richardson recalled many times. “He was good at spotting susceptible individuals.”
It was the beginning of a friendship that lasted until Picasso’s death, in 1973.
Mr. Richardson and Mr. Cooper were also living in southeastern France at the time, in the palatial 13th-century Château de Castille, halfway between Avignon and Nimes. They had transformed the castle, which Mr. Cooper had purchased, into a sort of museum, filling it with Cubist paintings by Picasso, Braque, Fernand Léger and Juan Gris.
In his 1999 memoir, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice: Picasso, Provence, and Douglas Cooper,” Mr. Richardson described his life there as a constant social whirlwind, highlighted by elaborate dinners that the two men would host, with local Gypsies hired to provide musical entertainment.
Mr. Richardson’s last act, beginning in 2008, was as a consultant to the Gagosian Gallery in New York, where he organized six Picasso exhibitions starting with “Picasso: Mosqueteros.” Roberta Smith of The New York Times called it “one of the best shows to be seen in New York since the turn of the century.”
Through his connections with members of Picasso’s family, Mr. Richardson was able to secure paintings that had never before been seen publicly. He was also able to persuade major museums and celebrated collectors to lend late Picasso paintings and prints for the exhibition, at Gagosian’s West 21st Street gallery in Chelsea.
It was a hit. For the entire run of the show, lines snaked around the block. His last exhibition, “Picasso: Minotaurs and Matadors,” was held at Gagosian’s Grosvenor Hill space in London in 2017. At his death he was working on an exhibition of Warhol portraits that was also to be held at the Grosvenor Hill gallery, although an opening date had not been set.
John Patrick Richardson was born in London on Feb. 6, 1924, the eldest son of Wodehouse Richardson, who was 70 when John was born, and Patty (Crocker) Richardson.
John’s father, a former quartermaster general in the Boer War in South Africa, helped found the Army and Navy Store, a London-based department store chain with branches in Bombay and Calcutta. Patty Crocker had been a store employee when she met Wodehouse Richardson.
Mr. Richardson’s father was knighted by King Edward VII, son of Queen Victoria, and Mr. Richardson himself was knighted in 2012 by Edward’s great-granddaughter, Elizabeth II. “My father was totally fascinating and rather impressive,” Mr. Richardson told The Guardian in 2012.
Sir Wodehouse died when John was 6. At 13 he was sent to Stowe, a boarding school in Buckinghamshire, England, known for its grand gardens designed by the 18th-century landscape architect Capability Brown. It was there that Mr. Richardson was introduced to the work of artists like Picasso, who was then in his mid-50s.
After Stowe, Mr. Richardson enrolled in the Slade School of Fine Art in London. But with the onset of World War II he was drafted into the British Army, only to be soon discharged after catching rheumatic fever.
During the war he lived in London with his mother and two siblings: a sister, Ruth Judith Richardson, who died in 2011, and a brother, David John, who survives him. He worked as an industrial designer by day and an air-raid warden and firefighter at night. But even the war did not dampen his social life. He described London during the blitz as “kind of amazing.”
“There were these great nightclubs in bombed basements in Soho,” he told The Guardian in 2012. “And there would be a feeling of tremendous excitement because quite a few of the men would be going off the following day to Egypt. And people were so great with each other during the war. People weren’t petty or bitchy; they were out for basically whatever thrills they could get before they were bombed or packed off to the battlefield.”
Mr. Richardson started writing for The New Statesman and other publications soon after the war, sometimes using the pseudonym Richard Johnson. It was during those years that Cuthbert Worsley, the magazine’s theater editor and deputy literary editor, took him to a party for Paul Bowles’s new novel, “The Sheltering Sky,” where he met Mr. Cooper.
His relationship with the complex and often prickly Mr. Cooper came to an end around 1960, at which time Mr. Richardson went to New York. Two years later he organized a sprawling Picasso exhibition mounted in nine New York galleries.
“It was during the summer, and the galleries stayed open till nine o’clock in the evening,” Mr. Richardson said. “In those days there wasn’t the traffic there is now, so you could spend an evening wandering around the galleries. It was a very civilized way of looking at art.”
While preparing for the shows, Mr. Richardson went back to France to consult with Picasso and there was struck by the idea of writing his biography. It was also during those years that he became friends with Warhol.
“When I met Andy he was still living with his mother,” Mr. Richardson said in an interview. “I was one of the few people who knew that Andy had for a long time gone to Mass every day of his life. Not that he always stayed, but he would often go by and take some holy water.
“But suddenly,” he continued, “I realized that the repetition in Andy’s work — the 100 Coca-Cola bottles or the 25 Marilyns — had their source in the priests who, during confession, would say three Hail Marys or 12 Our Fathers. It was very much a part of him, which explains a lot.”
In the early 1960s, Christie’s, the London-based auction house, hired Mr. Richardson to open a New York office. He left Christie’s in 1973 to work for the Knoedler Gallery, also in New York, where he was put in charge of 19th- and 20th-century painting. Mr. Richardson was later named managing director of Artemis, an art investment fund. By the 1980s he had abandoned dealing in favor of writing for publications like Vanity Fair, where he was a contributing editor, and The New York Review of Books.
For the past 20 or so years he divided his time between his 5,000-square-foot loft near Union Square in Manhattan — a grand enfilade of rooms overflowing with everything from Picassos and Braques to flea-market finds he had collected from every corner of the globe — and an equally brimming country house in the hills of western Connecticut, in New Milford.
He balanced his days between organizing exhibitions for Gagosian and writing the fourth and final volume of his Picasso biography. He also wrote “Sacred Monsters, Sacred Masters,” a 2001 collection of profiles of artists and tastemakers, and had started a second volume of memoirs.)
Mr. Richardson showed his love for the unconventional to the end. At 92, he happily allowed Ms. Saville to spend hours photographing him naked at the Ritz Hotel in London, where he was staying.
“That day of modeling was beautiful,” she recalled in an email. “He stood naked in his hotel bedroom for quite a while crouched over,” leaning on a cane, “and still talking about Picasso every moment.”
She added, “Not many models are as free as John, and certainly not as funny.”B:
马会拆字【待】【到】【余】【波】【之】【力】【散】【去】【后】，【两】【道】【身】【影】【显】【露】【了】【出】【来】，【看】【上】【去】，【并】【没】【有】【受】【到】【严】【重】【的】【伤】【害】。 【只】【不】【过】【仔】【细】【一】【看】，【无】【痕】【整】【个】【身】【躯】，【有】【那】【么】【一】【道】【道】【红】【色】【的】【痕】【迹】。 【显】【然】，【那】【是】【风】【暴】【之】【力】【所】【撕】【扯】【的】，【要】【不】【是】【他】【体】【魄】【强】【大】，【恐】【怕】【早】【就】【被】【撕】【成】【了】【碎】【片】。 “【小】【爷】【怎】【么】【会】【输】【给】【你】？” 【无】【痕】【倔】【强】【的】【说】【道】，【就】【算】【明】【知】【道】【不】【是】【敌】【手】，【但】【他】【也】【不】
【等】【他】【把】【这】【几】【样】【灵】【材】【又】【看】【一】【遍】【后】，【才】【收】【起】【灵】【泉】【阵】【图】，【随】【后】【命】【人】【去】【找】【春】【桃】【和】【江】【老】【五】【过】【来】。 【江】【老】【五】【正】【张】【罗】【着】【砖】【窑】【任】【务】，【听】【说】【江】【小】【鱼】【找】【他】，【就】【忙】【丢】【下】【手】【中】【工】【作】，【跟】【着】【小】【厮】【急】【急】【忙】【忙】【朝】【城】【主】【府】【里】【赶】。 【来】【到】【正】【厅】【前】，【他】【恰】【好】【碰】【上】【也】【匆】【忙】【赶】【来】【的】【春】【桃】。 【平】【日】【里】，【江】【老】【五】【都】【尽】【量】【不】【跟】【春】【桃】、【江】【山】【他】【们】【几】【人】【照】【面】【儿】，【今】【儿】【个】【碰】【见】
【阵】【容】【确】【定】！ 【上】【路】【德】【玛】【西】【亚】【盖】【伦】 【中】【路】【莫】【甘】【娜】 【打】【野】【则】【是】【李】【政】【宗】【的】【挖】【掘】【机】 【下】【路】【的】【话】【则】【是】【炼】【金】【还】【有】ADCEZ 【炼】【金】【的】【话】【估】【计】【是】【不】【想】【玩】，【开】【局】【就】【会】【带】【着】【疾】【跑】【松】【塔】【的】【那】【种】！ 【李】【政】【宗】【无】【所】【谓】，【仅】【仅】【是】【个】【铂】【金】【局】，【他】【的】【挖】【掘】【机】【目】【前】【可】【是】【王】【者】【级】【别】【的】【熟】【练】【度】。 【对】【面】【阵】【容】【就】【比】【较】【有】【趣】【了】，【上】【路】【是】【沟】【头】【人】，【中】【路】【是】马会拆字【她】【们】【离】【开】【医】【院】【的】【时】【候】【已】【经】【是】【晚】【上】【七】【点】【多】【了】，【原】【本】【夏】【子】【说】【打】【算】【请】【张】【新】【杰】【吃】【饭】【的】，【可】【是】【顿】【饭】【因】【为】【叶】【锦】【程】【的】【出】【现】【也】【就】【不】【了】【了】【之】【了】。【原】【本】【因】【为】【时】【间】【很】【晚】【了】，【夏】【子】【说】【打】【算】【不】【吃】【晚】【饭】【的】，【谁】【知】【道】【叶】【锦】【程】【却】【说】【自】【己】【帮】【她】【这】【么】【大】【一】【个】【忙】，【她】【怎】【么】【也】【该】【请】【他】【吃】【饭】【才】【是】，【夏】【子】【说】【拗】【不】【过】【就】【答】【应】【了】【他】。 【因】【为】【是】【请】【他】【吃】【饭】，【所】【以】【也】【就】【由】【着】【叶】【锦】【程】
【开】【了】【一】【本】【新】【书】——《【修】【真】【经】【营】》。 【重】【生】【南】【山】【县】【楚】【氏】【宗】【族】【的】【一】【员】，【当】【上】【族】【长】，【凭】【借】《【修】【真】【经】【营】》【系】【统】，【修】**【法】，【炼】【制】【法】【宝】，【炼】【制】【丹】【药】，【布】【置】【法】【阵】，【炼】【制】【道】【兵】，【封】【敕】【神】【祇】，【驯】【服】【妖】【兽】…… 【一】【步】【步】【打】【造】【修】【真】【界】【最】【强】【宗】【族】！ 【现】【在】【字】【数】【还】【不】【多】，【不】【过】【有】【兴】【趣】【的】【大】【大】，【可】【以】【先】【收】【藏】【一】【下】。
“【你】【看】【着】【点】【妹】【妹】，【别】【只】【顾】【着】【自】【己】【玩】。”【季】【墨】【蹲】【下】【来】，【叮】【嘱】【了】【一】【下】【再】【让】【他】【们】【去】。 “【哦】。”【季】【长】【风】【似】【懂】【非】【懂】【的】【点】【头】，【然】【后】【牵】【着】【妹】【妹】【的】【小】【手】，【兄】【妹】【两】【一】【起】【去】【玩】【新】【玩】【具】。 1478 【季】【墨】【两】【口】【子】【到】【客】【厅】【的】【沙】【发】【坐】【下】。 “【在】【楚】【家】，【还】【好】【吧】。”【张】【瑜】【问】【他】【们】【在】【楚】【家】【的】【情】【况】。 “【嗯】，【暂】【时】【没】【什】【么】【发】【现】，【希】【望】【只】【是】【我】【们】
【大】【概】【十】【分】【钟】【左】【右】，【救】【护】【车】【停】【在】【叶】【瞳】【家】【门】【口】。 【医】【生】【和】【护】【士】【将】【叶】【妈】【抬】【上】【救】【护】【车】，【叶】【瞳】【和】【王】【大】【爷】【一】【同】【坐】【上】【救】【护】【车】。 【救】【护】【车】【拉】【响】【警】【笛】，【启】【动】【车】【子】【往】【附】【近】【的】【医】【院】【行】【驶】【而】【去】。 【在】【抢】【救】【室】【门】【口】…… 【叶】【瞳】【蹲】【在】【门】【口】，【双】【目】【乏】【红】，【看】【着】【抢】【救】【室】【的】【灯】。 【王】【大】【爷】【在】【一】【旁】【看】【着】，【要】【不】【是】【医】【院】【不】【允】【许】【抽】【烟】，【说】【不】【出】【他】【现】【在】【已】【经】【点】