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Thanks to Greta Berman for the article on Max Beckmann in the September Juilliard Journal. It brought back memories of my years in the early '60s studying double bass at Juilliard with Frederick Zimmermann. I don't know how many students and faculty were aware that Mr. Z, in addition to being the pre-eminent bass teacher of his era, was a world-class art collector, as well as a painter himself. The walls of his apartment on West 55th Street, where he taught, were literally covered with paintings, drawings, lithographs, collages, sculpture—you name it. There were originals by Paul Klee, Ernst Kirchner, George Grosz, Yves Tanguy, Picasso (ceramics and drawings), and one of his favorites, Max Beckmann (oils and a lot of drawings).
There was so much in the small living room that I was overwhelmed when I showed up for my first lesson. The centerpiece was a life-size triptych of three nude women by Kirchner, flanked on one side by a Klee on burlap called Gefangen, as I remember. Of course, the music stand was placed so that you would face them while taking a lesson. I told Mr. Z that I had to turn away, but it didn't matter, because there was just more visual stimuli everywhere. As I later found out, this "clutter" continued throughout the apartment.
The Tanguy was in the bedroom, as was the Wols. Mr. Z often had recitals or rehearsals at the apartment, to which he invited students. One night, while dropping my coat on the bed, I was leaning up to an interesting oil for a closer look. He poked his head in and said, "Ever seen anything like that? Here—sit down; take a closer look." He picked it off the wall, handed it to me, moved some coats off the bed, and there I sat, Wols in hand, studying the intricacies of the artist's deep, strange world.
I have tried to follow the trail of some of the prominent works in the years since Mr. Z's death. Every once in awhile, I see one in a museum, book, or show publication. I always go to the Expressionist exhibitions hoping for a sighting. It sparks a connection in me, as Ms. Berman's article did, to the excitement, that grand feeling of discovery and creativity that I felt in those years at Juilliard—but most of all, to how I always looked forward to the next lesson with Fred Zimmermann.
Andy Muson
Sherman Oaks, CA
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