text:
VS: It's my great pleasure.
JWC: So, when did you first start working for Dumbarton Oaks? We have in the record that you started in the '93-'94 year, but there's also correspondence to you as the Music Advisor in '89. Is that correct?
VS: Yes, I was actually engaged as the Music Advisor in October, officially – the letter came in October 1989. The season for '89-'90 was already in place. I believe Robert Thomson was responsible for that, but then I took over after that, '90-'91 and so on.
JWC: And when you first came here, what did you understand was the mission of the Friends of Music program in the past?
VS: Well, when I think about that, it's very interesting in the sense that I came to Washington as a radio producer. I worked at National Public Radio for a long time, but I came initially as a Fellow, courtesy of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. And because of that – many people, even here in Washington, don't know about Dumbarton Oaks. And because I had dropped in from Mars essentially, which is Berkeley, California, I didn't know that much about it. I'd heard of the Dumbarton Oaks Concerto by Stravinsky, and I didn't know that much about it. Consequently, the reason I even came to Dumbarton Oaks to interview for this position was that a message had been sent to NPR, National Public Radio, to find out if there was someone in their Performance Today classical music program department who would be interested or able to curate a concert series. And the person they approached had no idea how to do that and wasn't interested in doing that. But I had just arrived, and he knew that I had been doing something akin to that in Seattle where I had been living. So, he said, "Go over and talk to them." So, that's what I did, not really being sure what I was getting into. I had no idea of the – how venerable this place was at the time. All I knew was that there was a nice concert series that was offered, and could I do it? And I interviewed with Angeliki Laiou, and I assured her that I could produce a stunning series for her, not really knowing if I could or not at that point. But, because, you know, my whole career has been steeped, well, in many things, but one of them is classical music and music in general, world music, that sort of thing, so I thought I could do a pretty good job.
JWC: You mentioned that the previous year Thomson had lined up all of the performers. Was there a reason for that? Was there a break between individuals who were in charge of the Friends of Music and he was filling in a gap, or –?
VS: Yes, I believe that was – again, I wasn't terribly sure about any of this, but I've been learning the job for a very long time now, so I'm slowly, slowly – my appreciation for the whole place and everything, the wonderful history of it, has been growing steadily. I believe that Joan Southcote-Aston was the person who was in charge of the music before Mr. Thomson took over, but then she had an accident and was unable to continue in that position. And so I think he just filled in temporarily. That's my understanding of it. I never had the pleasure of meeting Joan Southcote-Aston, although I've heard so many stories about her, and I don't believe I've actually met Robert Thomson either. I may have just, you know, very briefly met him, but not ever in the context of talking about the music program. So, I've just been sort of taking it from scratch, essentially.
JWC: So, before you had come, there were a number of big-name performers who had come to the Music Room to give a performance. You had mentioned Leontyne Price, for example, before the recording started. What do you know about them through correspondence that you've been able to look over from the past, or what people have told you in conversation about those previous performers?
VS: Well, the most information I've received has come from a book that John Thacher put together – he wrote, he didn't put it together. He wrote the book about performers at Dumbarton Oaks. I happen to have it here too. It's kind of my Bible if I want to look into the history of Dumbarton Oaks music. What he says in the foreword to that book is that he had a friendship, or he ultimately developed a friendship, with Alexander "Sasha" Schneider and Ralph Kirkpatrick, who were notable musicians at the time. Schneider was a conductor and a violinist; Kirkpatrick, a harpsichordist. And he actually worked with them to develop the Friends of Music – I think I'm going in the wrong direction. What was your question exactly? Oh, the people who've performed here before, yes. And so, in his book, he does talk about just amazing performances by amazing musicians. It's sort of like a Who's Who of great performers of the first half of the twentieth century, Leontyne Price being one of them, and also Eileen Farrell, Jennie Tourel, Gérard Souzay – I don't know if he's as well known – Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau was one of them, Joan Sutherland. There are so many amazing singers, and then instrumentalists such as Rudolph Serkin and Leon Fleisher and Murray Perahia who are still, you know, very well known today; the harpsichordist Wanda Landowska, who's the pioneer in bringing back harpsichord performance in the world, actually; and Gustav Leonhardt, who is sort of the grandfather of the new early music movement, historically informed performances. He played here also, and who else? And of course Ralph Kirkpatrick himself did, but he was sort of part of the Landowska old school, I think. We also had Christopher Hogwood, who was another one of the early music keyboard performers there. Leonard Rose, a very beautiful well-known cellist at the time, who was a wonderful teacher. He taught Lynn Harrell, who actually came here to perform several times on my watch. So, yes, those were – Pinchas Zukerman was another violinist, Charles Wadsworth, who for years ran the Spoleto USA Festival and was a very well-known pianist. I could just go on and on, and I would refer anyone who's interested to this book. I don't know if it's generally available, but it certainly would be available to look at at Dumbarton Oaks.
JWC: Now, I may be mistaken, but my understanding is that a lot of those names that you mentioned, when they came to perform with Dumbarton Oaks, they weren't the world-class celebrities at the time. They had yet to be discovered. Now what do you think makes that the case? What attracted these up-and-comers to Dumbarton Oaks? Did Joan Southcote-Aston just have a talent for seeing things in people that others didn't at the time? or was there something about Dumbarton Oaks that attracted these types of people?
VS: Well, first of all, I don't – I believe it was not Joan Southcote-Aston who was primarily responsible for these initial contacts. She arrived in the fifties, and I think it was Mr. Thacher who really had the contacts, because he was friends with Kirkpatrick and Schneider, and they were the ones who – they would, you know, get into a huddle and say, "What should we do for the next season?" and they were very enthusiastic about it. And of course they had wonderful connections. They knew a lot of people and invited the musicians, and so I think that's how it got started, and it is true that so many of these people were well-known as excellent, excellent musicians but had not quite made their mark yet. They were rising musicians at the time.
JWC: And have you, I guess in your earlier years here – did you ever have a chance to meet any of these people? Did they ever come back?
VS: Well, the musicians themselves?
JWC: Any of these players in the early music phase.
VS: Well, I have not met any of the people associated with Dumbarton Oaks. I've heard Ralph Kirkpatrick play. I heard him in Paris actually. He was virtually blind at the time, he'd lost most of his eyesight actually, and I went back to speak to him afterwards, but at that point of course I had no idea that I was going to be at Dumbarton Oaks, ever. Many of the musicians I have encountered, but not always at Dumbarton Oaks, you know. I've invited Paula Robeson, who was one of the musicians who came, before she became Robeson – I forget what her maiden name was – and I've met a lot of the musicians in the other contexts, like when I worked for NPR, for Performance Today. Many of them would come and do performances in our studio. In fact, that's one of the reasons I feel like I know – I'm quite will informed about who's performing today and the quality of the performances and so on, because of that involvement. And that was my day job. I mean, this was just something extra, actually. So, I've met them but not necessarily here.
JWC: And one of the other major facets of the Dumbarton Oaks music program is its history of having pieces commissioned for Dumbarton Oaks. So, the first was Stravinsky, right?
VS: Yeah, the Dumbarton Oaks Concerto.
JWC: And then after that was Copland, and then Joan Tower, correct?
VS: Yes, Joan Tower, yeah.
JWC: Now, if I'm not mistaken, you played an important role in the most recent piece that was commissioned for Dumbarton Oaks, is that correct?
VS: Well, I wouldn't say it quite like that. I would say that, in terms of the commission, I really had nothing at all to do with the actual commission. That was Ned Keenan, and I believe James Carder did some research to identify someone to write the music, but I did help organize the concert. I put all the pieces – I found the performers, I worked on what program we should have, you know, the Copland and the Stravinsky, of course. I organized all of that.
JWC: Can you tell us a little bit more about that particular endeavor?
VS: Sure. Well, I found – one of my old friends is Christopher Kendall, who has an ensemble called the – it used to be called the 20th Century Consort, now it's the 21st Century Consort – but it's a small chamber orchestra, and I thought immediately of that group as a group that contains excellent musicians and who could, you know, do something on rather short notice. And also the Dumbarton Oaks Concerto is quite well known. So, I engaged that group. Unfortunately, Christopher was not available to conduct himself, so I asked Ken Slowik, from the Library of Congress? Gosh, wait. No, he is at the Smithsonian in the musical instruments collection. He's head of all the music at the Smithsonian essentially. He's also a performer, wonderful cellist, harpsichordist; does all sorts of different types of performances. And so he came over to conduct. The string players for the Nonet for Strings by Copland were – I think that came through the 21st Century Consort as well. And then Joan Tower – she had a string quartet in mind for this particular performance. It's called the Dumbarton Quintet. It's a string quartet and piano. She herself played the piano – she wanted to play the piano in this world-premier performance, and the string quartet – I think it was the Enso, but that's something I am going to have to look up
JWC: When Joan Tower was writing this piece, did you ever have contact with her?
VS: Oh yeah, oh yeah. I did. But she actually had written it quite a ways back and tweaked it a bit, and played it in sort of a different version before it was performed here. Enso, yeah. It's the Enso String Quartet. You know what that is right? Enso?
JWC: I'm not familiar, no.
VS: It's used a lot in Zen, because in calligraphy it's like an empty circle with the brush stroke: it's enso, for empty mind and so on, emptiness. Anyway, they performed it with her. I'm not sure if I answered your question sufficiently.
JWC: No, yeah. I'm actually kind of curious, though, about the process of commissioning a work, and you mentioned that James Carder –
VS: James Carder and Ned – I think James did, because I've spoken with James a little about it after the fact. He said that – he just got online. There are all kinds of things online that talk about commissioning works and so on. But I might add at this point that Jan and I are looking into commissioning a work – and I can't say more about it right now – from a young composer. Whether or not that will pan out, we don't know, but we're looking forward to 2015, 2016, which will be the years – 2015 is the year that the gift was made to Dumbarton Oaks – to Harvard, Dumbarton Oaks was conveyed to Harvard University – and then in the year 2016, if we miss the '15 target, that is the year that the Friends of Music will turn seventy. The anniversary of the commission would be the 75th – I mean of the gift – would be the 75th anniversary. So, we're looking to that year. I don't know what will come of it, but we're hoping that we might be able to do that.
JWC: And one of the other, I guess, credits to your name is that the series has been very well reviewed in the time that you've been here. You mentioned earlier a piece about your time at NPR and how that sort of exposed you to a lot of these current-day performers, but what else can you say about why people enjoy the Dumbarton Oaks music series so much, and why they keep coming back?
VS: Well, I really can't say why people enjoy it. All I can say is what my aspiration is when I put together a season. I actually have engaged several musicians throughout the years who have risen to prominence now, but who had not achieved that at the time, like Anonymous 4 is a very, you know, well-known group of four women who sing medieval music, and they came. There's quite a well-known violinist, Gil Shaham, now who performed with us before he even made his debut at Carnegie Hall. He told me that he was sort of using the concerts here at Dumbarton Oaks as rehearsal for his debut at Carnegie Hall. And there are quite a few others, I could go through my notes and take a look, but I don't remember off the top of my head. But, over the years, a thing that was so interesting to me was that, when I read Thacher's book, in the foreword to that book, there was sort of a mission statement in the sense that they wanted – because back in the days when Friends of Music was about to coalesce into something, there were very few chamber music series in Washington; in fact, very few classical music series in Washington. One of them was at the Library of Congress, one of them was at the Phillips, there's the National Symphony – am I forgetting something? Maybe at the National Gallery of Art as well, the NGA. So, they decided to look at what those groups were doing, or those organizations were doing, and try to do something a little bit different. So, at the beginning they said, "Well, we want to avoid all of the nineteenth-century music, you know, all of the Romantic music" – not avoid it entirely but play it down and spend more time in the eighteenth-century and the twentieth-century, and that of course would also involve some occasional commissions from young composers. So, over the years, of course, that changed quite a bit. Again, since I didn't know that when I first took over the series, I just was trying to create something that would be balanced and interesting and represent a lot of different eras and also go for the highest quality of performances I could find and so on. So, I didn't really stick to that, because I didn't even know about it, and now over the years I think audiences' tastes have evolved from what they were initially. My understanding of the Friends of Music is that, early on, it was a very sort of closed organization, and people were invited to join, and they actually joined, and it tended to be people mostly in the neighborhood and close friends of the Blisses. So – oh dear, I don't want to do that. So, now it's, you know, just generally open to anyone who knows about it. We don't ever advertise, and so it's just by word-of-mouth that people find out about the series, but they're very happy to come. Over the years, I think, since the audience is changing, their tastes are changing, what's going on in the world is changing, and also the way people listen to music and consume music is changing. And so I've taken some risks, I guess you could say, made some bold steps in terms of introducing groups that are a little more cutting-edge, perhaps, such as Brooklyn Rider, which is a string quartet that does very new and interesting work. They also perform with Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road Project. There's world music influence in what they do. Also, Time for Three, which is this wonderful young trio – not so young anymore – but they were young when they graduated from Curtis, just trained in classical music to an inch of their lives, yet in their downtime would go and play bluegrass and jazz, and they do wonderful little – they would tweak classical compositions and so on, and the audience loved it! I mean these are really musically conservative people, and they loved it, most of them did. There are probably a few grumpy people in the batch, but for the most part they liked it a lot, same with Brooklyn Rider. And then, I mentioned world music: one season not so long ago, a couple of seasons ago, I engaged – I lined up the season, and then I realized that the undercurrent of that particular season was world music, and what that was about. The reason I say that is because I engaged an early music group from Canada called Ensemble Caprice, and they had a program called "Vivaldi and the Gypsies," which is a politically incorrect term, but that's what they called it. It should have been Roma or Romani people, I suppose. But they had a Baroque manuscript with melodies from the Romani people – the Roma people – oh gosh, I don't know which it is. Which is it, do you know?
JW: I think Roma.
VS: Roma. And what's "Romani"? Is that an adjective perhaps? Anyway, it doesn't matter. So, from the Roma – and then they arranged the melodies, and then they arranged the harmonies and instruments – how they perform it. And what they did was that the played a Vivaldi concerto, and then they would play a Roma concerto, Romani concerto, "gypsy" concerto – not a concerto, just the gypsy piece, it wasn't a concerto. I'm really glad you don't have to edit this, because it would be a nightmare. Anyway, so we had world influence in that concert. We also had – I engaged a Mexican string quartet, the quartet of Latinoamericano, who came to play. The first half of the concert was all music from the New World, essentially, for string quartet, and then the second half they were joined by a player of the bandoneón, which is a tango instrument, and this is a person who played in Ástor Piazzolla's tango band in Argentina. His music is very popular now. It's very well known in classical concerts. I mean, he's just been embraced by the classical world as well as the world music community. So, we had that, and then the other sort of strange concert for that season was in December. It was called Music of Three Faiths, by the Boston Camerata. They were the performers. The Boston Camerata has performed many times at Dumbarton Oaks, and this time they performed – it was essentially medieval music from the Jewish tradition, the Christian tradition, and the Muslim tradition. And we had an Arabic ensemble. They called it the – I can't remember what it was called, but anyway, it was a trio of Arabic musicians from different Arabic-speaking countries actually. So, that was a little bit interesting too. We added a new dimension, I think, to our music series with that. And coming up this next season we're going to have a Persian santur.
JWC: Now, I was curious to know – you talked about the audience a lot – who is your audience nowadays? Do you have a lot of the same types of people who may have been involved in an earlier era of the music series, or do you have professionals, families? Who likes to come?
VS: We have a core audience that I think has been coming to these concerts – forever! A few seasons ago, maybe ten seasons ago, actually, I remember a man and his wife were telling me, as they were welcomed to the first concert of the season – he said, "I believe this is the fiftieth" – the fiftieth! – "year that we have been coming." I was really surprised to hear that, because that's a long time. But they looked like it was possible. So, what I'm saying is, I think there are quite a few people like that. We had – unfortunately, many of them have passed away – but early on, after I first arrived, I remember that J. Carter Brown, who was the Director of the National Gallery of Art, would come faithfully with his family, and he would tell me that he was – his aunt brought him to Dumbarton Oaks when he was a child, and that she would gesture to the stairway that comes down into the Music Room and say, "And then Mrs. Bliss would come down the stairway!" That was rather nice, to have that connection, that he was there and that he had heard about Mrs. Bliss. I don't know if he actually met her or not, but he would hear stories about her from his aunt. The widow of Abe Fortas, who was on the Supreme Court, used to attend faithfully. Her name was – oh gosh, Carolyn, I think? A-G-G-E-R was her last name, and she would come every season. She would subscribe every season to our concerts and was very happy to be there, I think. And actually I believe that that is the Fortas that has given the name to the Fortas Chamber Music Series at the Kennedy Center. So, we were very fortunate to have her as well. Again – I'm just trying to think of any other people who – actually, I think that's probably the only connection I had to the people who came who might have been connected to the Blisses in any way.
JWC: Do you find that the type of audience you have influences how you put together a season?
VS: Right, that was your question, wasn't it. I think, actually, that we do probably have an audience that is hanging on as long as they can to this particular concert series, because they're familiar with it and so on. The newer additions to the audience – well, I would say the youngest are probably in their mid-forties.
JWC: Oh, wow.
VS: I mean, there may be the occasional slightly younger person, a couple who comes, but I think it does tend to be an older audience. The youngest people in the audience, of course, are very often the Fellows who are here at Dumbarton Oaks, which is lovely. It's wonderful to see them. But, no, I actually have to say that I do believe that there are some younger people coming, and that's – maybe it's because we're doing some more interesting music. I mean, there are different audience categories, you know. There are people who are very enthusiastic; every time they leave a concert they say, "Oh that was wonderful, thank you so much, it was so interesting" – whatever, nice things. And then there are other people who I think might be a little grumpy about anything that's new and challenging to them. But they came back, so, you know, I think it's worth the risk.
JWC: And what for you makes an ideal concert? I know there's a lot of variety in the types of pieces that you're putting together and between seasons there are different themes, but is there some common thread that ties all the concerts together?
VS: Within a season? or just in general?
JWC: Well, both. Within a season, it seems to be more topical; there's a musical common thread, and I'm thinking overall is there, you know, a spark or something that you're looking for that, regardless of the genre or period that a piece is from or that a performer focuses on – that they all have in common?
VS: Well, I think – what I try to do or look to do, really – what it is I look for is excellence in performance – excellence, but not just musicians who have a lot of facility – not just musicians with chops, as we would say, but musicians who are deeply musical. I'd say that's really important. I mean, sometimes I'm luckier than other times, but I will not engage anyone whom I have not heard either in person or, nowadays, on YouTube. That way, I can see how they present themselves and I can actually hear them directly in performance to see that they can deliver the goods. That's probably not a very good way of putting it. But I want to just make sure they're the real deal – really have accomplished artists who come here. That's really the most important thing. The programming, of course, is the most fun in terms of when I've identified wonderful musicians. We can talk about what they want that might be a little different or more interesting, or whatever. I think its excellence – excellence of musicianship and performance.
JWC: When you're finding these performers, how do you first encounter most of them? Do they have agents that are reaching out to you, or are you seeing in the community and reaching out to them? Or a little bit of both?
VS: I'd say it's both. I've actually been in the business here, at Dumbarton Oaks, but before that many, many years. I know lots and lots of musicians and I know lots and lots of managers and agents, so we'll sort of have a nice collegial relationship. I might write to them and ask them if they have this or that and ask them what so-and-so is doing this year. Or they might approach me and say, "we have this really interesting group that's gotten together," "this is a particularly interesting program," and so on, and I consider it. So, it's very fluid in that way. I just feel very comfortable moving on my own or taking things that are offered by the managers. If I trust them. You have to trust them in taste and so on.
JWC: What's the number of performers you have in a series versus the number that you start to investigate at the beginning of the season? What's the ratio of people –
VS: I've never kept track of that. I don't know. I do – some seasons I have a very clear idea in my mind of what I want to do. Boom – just like that. Other seasons, I think, "Oh my gosh, it's another season. I have to line up fourteen concerts." And then I start thinking, I have to organize in my mind what I think might be a good season. And other times I'm so full of ideas and there are so many people I'd like to have come to Dumbarton Oaks that I can only have – there are only seven concerts, each one done twice. That's where I got the fourteen. So, I have to be selective. It's an odd process. I don't actually think about something like that, now that you ask. No statistics.
JWC: How far in advance do you generally plan out a concert series?
VS: A season? Well, right now I'm working on in the summer of 2013 – of course we have the 2013-14 concert series, but I'm working on 2014-15 right now, and I have quite a number of ideas. I haven't nailed down anything yet, but I'm sort of designing it now. I have these sort of maybe this or that, you know. It's in process right now.
JWC: When you're putting these things together, are you always trying to find something new and different, or are there always a few standbys that the audience really enjoys and makes reappearances through the years?
VS: Well, I look for what – I try to pay attention, first of all, to what's going on in the world of music. I do look for something that might be particularly interesting because it's different in its approach. I think it's really important to pay attention to that sort of thing. We've had a group here a few seasons back called "A Far Cry." It's just a chamber orchestra of young people who met at New England Conservatory. They were so amazing in their approach to the type of music they played and they listened to music and they listened to each other when they played and the variety they offered within one concert itself. To me, just something about them just struck me as being something very different and special, so I engaged them. And they were so fantastic, the night after the last concert, I went home and got their manager on the phone, who lives mercifully on the West Coast, so it wasn't so early and I said, "I want them next year again." So wonderful. That was the first time I did that. Normally I don't do that, even if we have wonderful concerts. But these people were so compelling and so musical – so deeply musical and dedicated, and so wonderful – that I had them come back. But to answer your question about whether I'm always looking for something different or new, I think more than that – I think I am looking for something new. I always like to have one, what I would call to myself, a weird concert that might shake everybody up. I don't always succeed in identifying a weird piece. Sometimes I have an entire season of rather tame concerts and then I'm disappointed in myself when it comes out to be a tame season. I try to balance. If I have the weird concert, I will try to have something that will wash gently over the ears of our audience, who might be more sensitive to that sort of thing and who might be reassured by that type of program. But, I do really think it's important to pay attention and offer more of the sort of new approach to how people are playing music. Classical music. They – the serious intellectuals – are talking about the future of classical music is in jeopardy. And it can be in jeopardy, but what I know is that we have so many young people; something about it sparks interest. Lots of musicians are graduating from conservatories and universities and whatever all the time – that can continue. We just need to identify what that is and find an audience for them. And so they have to be as out there as we do in terms of having to think about a different way to how they deliver the music to people who listen.
JWC: Do you ever find that other people in either the Washington community or father afield come to consult with you when they're trying to put together a concert series of their own?
VS: All the time. Yes, they do. I get phone calls from people who are about to start a series and they ask me basic nuts-and-bolts questions about it. It's not so much artistic stuff. It's more like – well, it sort of is, like, how do you go about lining people up, or how do you deal with getting people interested to come as an audience, or how do you do your contracts? – various things like that.
JWC: Is Dumbarton Oaks unique in the type of concert series it provides, or is it a somewhat common type of series when you look at other cities throughout the country?
VS: Well, I don't know that much about all that which is happening around the country, but I've had people comment that this is one of the last places they can come to just to subscribe to a season knowing that they'll get wonderful classical music. That said, I often try to give it a little classical music, but a little something else to broaden the horizons. We don't have a mandate to do crossover music or a dumbing down music. I'm not saying those two are the same. I don't try to provide concerts to the lowest common denominator. I try to provide concerts to intelligent – because out audience certainly is – and knowledgeable and musically literate. I have to say also that there is not a need to do that. I imagine that there are probably some presenters who have difficulty bringing audiences in, and they have to find things – play the Pachelbel Canon or have Vivaldi's Four Seasons again and again, because that's what people know and want to hear. There's nothing wrong with that music, just not exactly adventuresome either. It's a known quantity. We're very fortunate here to be able to function here without being able to market what we do. The subscribers hear about us – its word of mouth. We're virtually fully subscribed every season. We have to save a few seats for the people here at Dumbarton Oaks and comp tickets for the performers and so on, but for the most part we do have a pretty full audience and people keep coming back without having to attract them with – you know what I'm saying, I think.
JWC: What do performers tell you after they come here about the opportunity they have to perform the pieces that they like or the more adventurous pieces? What about the audience or things of that nature?
VS: Well, they invariably – I've never heard any of the musicians complain. They just love it here. They say, "Oh, this is the most beautiful place." The ones from overseas – from Europe – will say, "It's just like being in Europe." – the Music Room and so on. They actually sometimes – our audience can be somewhat understated. Sometimes they fall asleep and drop their programs on the floor. But our musicians love them. They say, "This is just lovely." And our audience gives them a warm welcome too, I think. They seem to like the audiences. Maybe it's because they don't actually have audiences like them often, and because they don't have to play in a school gymnasium or basketball court, or something. It's a real concert offering experience from their point of view, and a really positive one.
JWC: On the flip side, what does the audience say about the performers? I'm sure many of them have subscriptions to either the Kennedy Center or other performing arts venues –
VS: They do. They have that a lot too. What they do a lot – often they'll ask me, "Do you know the dates of your concerts next season yet, because I don't want to have a conflict between that and the Kennedy – chamber music concerts at the Kennedy Center," or something like that. We really are on their radar screen. We are important to them – important enough that they want to schedule around what our dates are with what's going on elsewhere. Does that answer your question?
JWC: Yeah. But what do they say about the performers themselves?
VS: Oh, the performers themselves. They love it.
JWC: How do they compare – going to the opera is much different than here, of course – but how would they compare the two –
VS: Compare the two?
JWC: Do they enjoy coming here more than they enjoy going to the Kennedy Center?
VS: You'd have to ask them. You would have to interview some of the audience members. Will you do that?
JWC: We might, if you have the names of some of the people who have been around for a very long time.
VS: Maybe we can find some of those.
JWC: Another thing which I was curious about that was mentioned is the Music Room itself, which is aesthetically wonderful. What about from an acoustic perspective or some of the other more technical aspects that you need to keep in mind when bringing these performance groups in?
VS: Well, I think the acoustics are decent acoustics. It's not a really live room, and sometimes when we have the type of music that responds better in a live environment, we will open the drapes over the windows and that gives us more hard surface. I think the tapestries soak up a lot of sound, and you don't want to be moving those around. The audience also will soak it up. The only time I notice it very much is when we do have groups such as Anonymous Four, the group I mentioned before, that's four women's voices singing medieval music. It's very stark and high and wonderful in a cathedral, for example. In the Music Room, it sounds okay. It's also – its dry. It's a drier environment. As you may or may not know, the drier the environment, the more present every little thing will be, like the source of the sound. I mean a violinist, for example – you will hear every little screak happening on the string or bow, and so on. I think musicians prefer to have a more live environment. That said, that's not that this is a dry Music Room. It's pretty good. It's pretty good, but it's not ideal for certain types of music. Now, I'm trying to actually steer clear of some of those cathedral-like ensembles. We had a wonderful December concert this last season with a group called Cantus. It was a capella – nine men singing a capella. Somehow, that was just great. We didn't need anything. And it was the nature of the music they sang as well. They weren't singing medieval music. Actually, they did sing one thing that was medieval. It was a totally mixed program. They sang one thing that was from Sweet Honey in the Rock, they sang music – folk music. They sang Native American hymns, and they sing, well sung I should say – Russian choral music – that sort of thing. Just a variety that you didn't need to have special acoustics. And it was good – so good. I listened over and over to the recording they did in the Music Room. It was so lovely. It took me weeks to stop listening to it. But that was just me. I don't know if anyone else felt the same.
JW: Do you have any recommendations as to how you could equip the Music Room such that it could be more acoustically conducive to medieval choir music, for example?
VS: That's a good question. Well, I'm not sure if just a shell would work. I'm not sure if that would do it, because my understanding of it is the entire surrounding surfaces should be the types of surfaces that create a more light environment and just a shell might help a little to project it out, but I don't know we would need it that often. Part of the beauty of having it in the Music Room is that it's the Music Room and it doesn't have a lot of things that get between the musicians and that. We now have a platform, which the audience was begging for for years and years saying, "We can't see the musicians," because when we position the musicians there are two possible – well there are many possible ways, but we either put them lengthwise and everyone sits so we look at them up against the tapestry at the end of the room, and the other way is a sort of semicircle around the fireplace. Everyone prefers the semicircle because it is more intimate, but when they are in the long configuration, if you come in late and you are sitting in the back – because there are no assigned seating here – it's really hard to see anything at all. I've sat in the back and it's really looking for the – you don't even know who's playing. It was great that we could have a platform. It only goes up about a foot, but it is just enough extra that people can see. But then it creates other problems because whenever we have musicians – ensembles that have pianos, we can't lift the piano.
JWC: You mentioned before a little about the Fellows. What type of addition do you think that they give to the music series? They aren't here for the music; that's a nice added perk of Dumbarton Oaks. What do they tell you about their thoughts on the music series? Do they say things similar to what the regular subscribers would?
VS: I don't think I can answer that. No. There are some that come regularly. Most don't come regularly, quite honestly. The ones that do come regularly clearly are music lovers and show up every time. But you'd have to talk to them about that too, I think.
JWC: I guess what I was trying to get from you – when you talk to audience members what types of conversations do you have with them? You're saying they don't tell you what they enjoyed?
VS: They?
JWC: When you talk to an audience member after a performance, what do they tell you?
VS: Well, generally, they just say they really enjoy it. If they didn't enjoy it – well mostly people just come out and say, "That was wonderful." I remember sometimes, as I said, we have the occasional grumpy audience member. And it's really occasional. I remember one person – and there's one person who still faithfully comes to the concerts – but if there's anything that is a little challenging or a little unusual or dissonant, or even not one hundred percent classical, she – it's a woman – might storm out at the end and complain. My colleague Cindy Greene is the one who deals with the subscriptions and tickets now. And that's sort of a new thing. I used to do everything. I don't hear as much maybe as she hears about it, but mostly its very complimentary. And, oh!, the other thing that happens that's quite charming is that sometimes throughout the year I'll receive notes from audience members who will say, "I just heard this fabulous concert up in Maine," or Chicago or whatever, and they'll send me this program saying, "You might want to think about these wonderful musicians." They'll send me suggestions which I find quite charming. And I receive little thank you notes at the end of the season saying, "Thank you. I really appreciate what you're doing," which is so nice. Its one of the few benefits of doing this.
JWC: Are there any particularly salient memories that you have about your time here? – either stories about performers who have come through who have left an impression on you or anything in general that you will always remember about Dumbarton Oaks.
VS: I think the thing that I will always remember, actually, is a very personal thing and is something that just goes on inside of me, which is that when I first came here, as I intimated when we began speaking today, I didn't really understand all that much about Dumbarton Oaks. Slowly, slowly over the years – I've almost been here for a quarter of a century now, twenty-five years next year, I've more and more began to realize what a treasure Dumbarton Oaks is and what a privilege being able to promote these concerts. When I first took it on, I took it on because I love music, I'm a performer as well, as well as someone who is a radio producer in the cultural arts, and so on. Slowly, slowly I began to realize this is such a gift and what fills me – I'm filled with gratitude for having this opportunity to be here and to work with musicians to actually identify young rising musicians and give them an opportunity to play in this very distinguished venue. I've discovered that this is a very prestigious venue [laughs]. People go, "Oh! Dumbarton Oaks. We'd love to play there." So it's about being able to give young people an opportunity to do that. And for years there was a policy of no reviews, no recordings. It was supposed to be an intimate soirée – nothing should come between the people, the audience, and the music. Now Jan has so heartily embraced the initiatives and new ways of doing things. To have that dimension is just – I feel like we're continuing to grow and change in a good way. Gosh, I think one of my most favorite things was that Cantus, which I already mentioned. There was just something about the content – oh, I remember what it was. There was an encore that they sang that happened to be from the Methodist hymnbook. I know nothing about the Methodist hymnbook, but it was set to the tune of Sibelius's Finlandia. The thing that struck me – we've been having such a difficult time these last few years in the world, and the words are something to the effect that "This is my native land and I love it deeply and dearly and the skies are so blue and pine and clover grow here and everything. But in other places, the sky is just as blue and the clover and pine grow. People have aspirations and hopes just as mine and love their country too." And I was thinking, whoa, wouldn't that be a great national anthem? Because I mean, well it's not – I should be careful what I say – it's not just like waving the flag and bombs bursting in air and it's a prayer for peace, really, and understanding of all nations. That's what really caught me in the Cantus concert and I remember that. And I learned about that hymn. I had never heard it before, so that was very special. But that's not what you want to hear. You want to hear something "Dumbarton Oaksian" [laughs]. What can I say? Something I've always wanted to do – it's not a memory – but something I've always wanted to do is to have some sort of an outdoor concert someday in the beautiful outdoor garden. I'm still hoping we'll be able to figure out a time when its not a rainy season or too hot or too this or too that. It's just magnificent and the ability to do something like that would be just tremendous.
JWC: Wonderful. Is there anything that we've neglected to ask you that you feel is particularly important to talk about?
VS: Let me think. Dumbarton Oaks – Friends of Music – well, I guess not. I could talk more about particular amazing performances that we've talked about here, but that's researchable. One could look it up. "Look it up," as they say. I don't know. The thing about it is, as soon as we finish with this I'll probably have all sorts of thoughts I should have said, but at this point I think I'm okay.
JW: Well thank you so much for speaking with us today.
VS: You're quite welcome. It's been a pleasure.]]>
The Ambassador has been perfectly miserable since we got out here. And now that he is at last out of bed, his only activity is medical tests twice daily. I don't despair of a way being found to increase his vitality, but I do fear that he is in for a very long and slow pull uphill. The comfort to me of knowing Dumbarton Oaks is safe and useful is profound indeed.
With the Blisses' departure, the staff at Dumbarton Oaks decided to write to the Blisses to keep them abreast of developments at the institute. On December 17, 1940, librarian Barbara Sessions wrote Robert Bliss in Florida:
After Christmas, when we have caught up with work a bit, I look forward to sending you frequent letters which will keep you and Mrs. Bliss in touch with the minutiae of daily life among us here. You should have had such letters already, recounting our amusing experiences in one way and another, the comings and goings, the successful completion of work "unfinished" at the time of your departure. But even though the letters have not been achieved, the constant desire to associate you uninteruptedly with our concerns has been always pressent. You have not left us, and you never will!
Instead of letters, however, the staff decided to "publish" a weekly newsletter called the Underworld Courier, named after the basement area, the "underworld," where many of them had their offices. The staff sent the Blisses a telegram on January 7, 1941, to express their delight in the initiation of the project:
The staff of the Underworld Courier beg to express the honor they feel in your interest in their infant enterprise, For them, assembling the copy will be a joy and their hope is that the flight of the weekly leaflet across the continent will mutually lessen the sense of distance.
The Blisses telegrammed back:
First number of Underworld Courier read with great interest. Hearty congratulations to the Editor and to talented author of feature article. No infant enterprise this, rather is it born already adolescent.
The Underworld Courier provided a succinct summary of the happenings at the institution during the week. The first issue, dated January 11, 1941, for example, contained postings on the book bindery, book acquisitions, the Census of Byzantine Objects, the gardens, the Fellows Quarters, and even the weather. The feature article was titled "Chicago" and was written by Louisa Bellinger "of the Mummy Case Bellingers" about her research at the Field Museum on Coptic textiles for the Census of Byzantine Objects. In all, there were twenty-five issues. The last, dating to November 1, 1941, was billed as "An Aftermath (Don't Tell)." This was due to the fact that, by September 1941, the staff who had originally contributed to the publication had left Dumbarton Oaks, with the exception of Bellinger. In the September 25th issue, she wrote:
New name for the Courier? New character? Obviously, it will no longer be the Underworld Courier, since all but me are fled. We will try to think of a new name which will be agreeable to our subscriber—should they want to renew their subscription. May we be notified about that last point? Obviously, it should have a new character. We must try to think about that, too. No longer, perhaps, of so light a character, so formless. Possibly, a series of reports—not too long—from each room upstairs. A weekly batch of separate notes giving a picture of the activities as seen by each. Would that please you? Would you like us to continue? In some form or other? We will be guided by your wishes and, meantime, continue much as before till we hear.
But the "Aftermath" issue, tellingly published on the first-year anniversary date of the Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, would be the last. The "Underworld Courier" had done its job of keeping the Blisses informed about Dumbarton Oaks during the critical first year of its existence.
Complete texts of the Underworld Courier can be found here.]]>
This announcement marks the publication of the first two sections, from 1902 to 1908 and from 1909 to 1919. We see Europe before the First World War through the eyes of the budding art connoisseur Royall Tyler, while we explore the artistic landscape of galleries and auction houses in the period and learn about the active roles the Blisses and Tylers both played in wartime charities. We also meet other important figures of the time: the German Kardorff family of artists and politicians, novelist Edith Wharton, Gypsy artist and Flamenco guitarist Fabián de Castro, and Spanish man of letters Miguel de Unamuno.
The project includes historical introduction, explanatory footnotes, plates of artworks, and short annotations identifying key individuals, places, and objects. New annotations, plates, and transcriptions are added regularly. We encourage readers to return often to glimpse the unfolding of the first half of the twentieth century from the perspective of these four correspondents.]]>
Repository: Dumbarton Oaks Archives, Washington, D.C.
Call Number: Byzantine Studies/Der Nersessian, Sirarpie
Location: Archives 058, Byzantine Studies VF
Name(s) of Creator(s): Jelisaveta ("Seka") Stanojevich Allen; Anastasius C. Bandy; Robert Woods Bliss; Richard LeBaron Bowen, Jr.; Rita W. Buckler; Jefferson Caffery; Jane Chance; Levon B. Chookaszian; Sirarpie Der Nersessian; Richard Ettinghausen; George H. Forsyth, Jr.; Nina G. Garsonian; André Grabar; Richard Hovannisian; Ernst Kitzinger; Dickran Kouymjian; Angeliki E. Laiou; George Ostrogorsky; W. Sas-Zaloziecky; Ihor Ševčenko; Konstantin F. Shteppa; Isaac Stone; Alice-Mary Talbot; Robert Thomson; and the Washington Star.
Title: Sirarpie Der Nersessian Papers and Photographs
Inclusive Date: 1929–2002
Language(s): English and French
Quantity: 4 series in 2 folders
Acquisition Information: These papers came to the Dumbarton Oaks Archives at an unknown date.
Processing Information: These papers were inventoried by James N. Carder in 1999 and processed by James W. Curtin and James N. Carder in 2013.
Terms of Use and Access: These papers can be used for research and publication purposes.
Physical Access: An appointment is required for access to these papers. For appointment and queries contact James N. Carder, Archivist, firstname.lastname@example.com.
Preferred Citation: Sirarpie Der Nersessian Papers and Photographs, Dumbarton Oaks Archives. Courtesy of Dumbarton oaks Research Library and Collection, Washington, D.C.
Sirarpie Der Nersessian was an Armenian scholar of Armenian and Byzantine art history, especially Armenian illuminated manuscripts. She is credited with incorporating Armenian art into the scope of Byzantine art history. She was born in Istanbul (Constantinople) on September 5, 1896. With her older sister, Araxie, she fled persecutions against Armenians in the Ottoman Empire in 1915, going first to Bulgaria and then to Switzerland, where Sirarpie completed her secondary and university (1917) educations. In 1919, the sisters moved to Paris, where Sirarpie pursued graduate degrees at the Sorbonne, studying with the historian Charles Diehl and art historians Gabriel Millet and Henri Foçillon. Her lifelong friendship with Byzantine historian Father Francis Dvornik and art historian André Grabar also started during her student years in Paris.
In 1939, Sirarpie Der Nersessian delivered a lecture, "Some Aspects of Byzantine Sculpture," at Dumbarton Oaks. In 1944–1945, she was a Senior Fellow at Dumbarton Oaks, and the following year she became a full faculty member and a member of the Board of Scholars. While at Dumbarton Oaks, she resided on the grounds at S and 32nd Streets N.W. and was joined there by her sister in 1947. In 1953, she was appointed Henri Foçillon Professor of Art and Archaeology at Dumbarton Oaks and Harvard University, after which she served as Deputy Director of Byzantine Studies (1953–1954). At Dumbarton Oaks, she also twice served as Acting Director of Byzantine Studies in 1954–1955 and 1961–1962. Sirarpie Der Nersessian also directed two Dumbarton Oaks Byzantine symposia in 1948 and 1958 and participated in a total of seven. During the nearly twenty years that Der Nersessian was at Dumbarton Oaks, her scholarly research focused on manuscript illuminations as well as on Byzantine and Armenian art generally.
Upon her retirement in 1963, Sirarpie Der Nersessian returned to Paris and continued to lecture in European universities, including the Collège de France. She returned in October 1965 to deliver her final lecture at Dumbarton Oaks, "Scholarship in Byzantine Art and Archaeology, 1940-1965" for the institution's twenty-fifth anniversary. She was awarded the status of Emerita and made an honorary associate of the Board of Scholars. Sirarpie Der Nersessian was also the only woman at Dumbarton Oaks to gain full professorship at Harvard, the first woman to receive the Saint Gregory the Illuminator Medal of Honor from the Armenian Apostolic Church (1960), and the second woman to receive a gold medal from the Society of Antiquaries of London (1970).
The Sirarpie Der Nersessian Papers and Photographs contain her correspondence, correspondence regarding her obituary, miscellaneous papers, photographs, a copy of her Dumbarton Oaks 1939 talk, "Some Aspects of Byzantine Sculpture," and an offprint copy of Jelisaveta Stanojevich Allen's "Sirarpie Der Nersessian (b. 1896): Educator and Scholar in Byzantine and Armenian Art," from Women as Interpreters of the Visual Arts, 1820–1979, edited by Claire Richter Sherman with Adele M. Holcomb. Contributions in Women's Studies, Number 18 (Greenwood Press: Westport, Connecticut – London, England, 1981), chapter 12, 329–56.
Series 1: Correspondence and Miscellaneous (1946–2002)
Jelisaveta ("Seka") Stanojevich Allen (1981–1996)
Anastasius C. Bandy (1961)
Robert Woods Bliss (1946)
Richard LeBaron Bowen, Jr. (1954)
Rita W. Buckler (1954)
Jefferson Caffery (1946)
Jane Chance (2002)
Levon B. Chookaszian (1996)
Sirarpie Der Nersessian (1946–1961)
Richard Ettinghausen (1954)
George H. Forsyth, Jr. (1955)
Nina G. Garsonian (1989)
André Grabar (1981)
Richard Hovannisian (1981)
Ernst Kitzinger (1960)
Dickran Kouymjian (2002)
Angeliki E. Laiou (1989)
George Ostrogorsky (1960)
W. Sas-Zaloziecky (1954)
Ihor Ševčenko (1989)
Konstantin F. Shteppa (1954)
Isaac Stone (1960)
Alice-Mary Talbot (2002)
Robert Thomson (1989)
Item 1: "Dr. Der Nersessian To Receive $2,500 AAUW Award," Washington Star (April 9, 1948) (also photocopy).
Item 2: Konstantin F. Shteppa, "Autobiography," 1954.
Item 3: Konstantin F. Shteppa, "List of the Most Important Treatises," 1954.
Item 4: Photocopy of Bradford Bachrach's photograph portrait of Sirarpie Der Nersessian, undated.
Series 2: Typescript (1939)
Item 1: Sirarpie Der Nersessian, "Some Aspects of Byzantine Sculpture," copy of 1939 talk delivered at Dumbarton Oaks.
Series 3: Offprint (1981)
Item 1: Jelisaveta Stanojevich Allen, "Sirarpie Der Nersessian (b. 1896): Educator and Scholar in Byzantine and Armenian Art," Women as Interpreters of the Visual Arts, 1820–1979, edited by Claire Richter Sherman with Adele M. Holcomb. Contributions in Women's Studies 18 (Greenwood Press: Westport, Connecticut – London, England, 1981), chapter 12, 329–56.
Series 4: Photographs
Item 1: Image of people seated and standing; 5" x 6¾", b/w, identification on post-in on back: "This photo is the group of students at the École des Hautes Études in Paris, with Professor Gabriel Millet. Miss Der Nersessian was Millet's assistant. Picture was taken in 1929 – The list of names enclosed was written by Miss Serarpie Der Nersessian when I visited her in Paris;" enclosed list of names: 1929 / I / 1. Ivan Radekovic / 2. Mme Celina Osieczkowska / 3. I. D. Stefanescu / 4. I. Zdrakovic / 5/ Mme. V. Coltas / Mlle Rose Valland / 7. André Xyngofoulos - / II / 1. Mme S. Tomiline (Larionoff) / 2. Mlle Juliette Renaud / 3. M. Millet / 4. S. d. N / 5. ?" (3 copies)
Item 2: Image of Sirarpie Der Nersessian (seated) with Milton Anastos, Glanville Downey, Albert Friend, Francis Dvornik, and Paul Underwood (standing); 5" x 7 1/8", b/w, identifications on post-it on back: "Miss S. Der Nersissian at Dumbarton Oaks after a symposium with: Prof. Milton Anastos, Prof. Glanville Downey, Prof. A. Friend, Prof. Francis Dvornik, Prof. Paul Underwood; 1948 Symposium" and graphite inscription: "49.60.1" (2 copies);
Item 3: Image of Sirarpie Der Nersessian and her sister Araxie Der Nersessian (seated); 5" x 7 1/8", b/w, identifications on post-it on back: "Miss Sirarpi Der Nersessian and her sister Mrs. Arax Der Nersessian in their living-room, in the house where they lived on the grounds of Dumbarton Oaks. Picture taken probably in 1962 or 63." (3 copies);
Item 4: Image of Sirarpie Der Nersessian, André Grabar, Paul Alexander, and Francis Dvornik (bust length), 5" x 7 1/8", b/w, identifications on post-it on back: "Miss S. Der Nersessian at Dumbarton Oaks with her good friends: Prof. André Grabar, Prof. Francis Dvornik, and Prof. Paul Alexander. about 1958" and a graphite inscription: "188.8.131.52." (3 copies).]]>
IU: You are welcome.
ABF: Can you tell us about how you and your husband, Paul Underwood, first came to Dumbarton Oaks and about your memories?
IU: My husband was teaching at Cornell, and I came down in advance to find an apartment here, when he was granted a fellowship as a Junior Fellow at Dumbarton Oaks. And he had written in advance to say I was coming to Washington. I had never been in the city before. It was 1943 – the war – and I found it rather overwhelming, but I went to Dumbarton Oaks and introduced myself, and John Thacher was very gracious. And his – maybe his secretary, I don't remember what position she held – turned out to be a classmate of mine in college. So, they were both very gracious, but they were not much help about apartment-hunting. But I finally found one in an apartment building and I went back to Ithaca, and my mother and husband and I came to Washington that fall, so it must have been September, probably, 1943. And my introduction to Mr. and Mrs. Bliss – by the way I had been rather impressed, even on my short interview with John Thacher, by the rather rarefied atmosphere at Dumbarton Oaks in those days. But when I came here my first introduction to the Blisses was a series of concerts that were held in the Music Room, and at that time open only to, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, and to the Fellows at Dumbarton Oaks and, of course, the Director of Studies also, and the head of the study of garden architecture and so on, and the Pre-Columbian, but no outside people. And they were wonderful concerts – really it was a great privilege to be there. I think probably Mrs. Bliss did most of the selection of the people who performed there. But I still remember my first meeting with her. Of course, we were advised that formal attire was rather expected. And we lived in Arlington and we had no car, so we had to travel by bus – we were rather poor too – we traveled by bus. You know, I had a long evening dress, and my husband was in formalwear. And we enjoyed the concert very much, and at the end Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were at the entrance to the Music Room, and we would make our way out and thank them for the concert. So, this was the first time we had met, and Mrs. Bliss looked at me and she said, "Oh, your dress is such a lovely color. I wonder if I might have it for cushions later." I looked at her; I thought, "How am I supposed to react to this?" you know? I thanked her very much. I don't know what I said – I really don't – but I was rather startled. So, that was not a very good beginning to our acquaintance. But she, you know, she thought she was – she didn't know how the other half lived. And she didn't quite know how to approach, so she wasn't very comfortable, I suppose. I assume. Anyway, that was my initial impression of her. And then after that I didn't have much contact with Dumbarton Oaks at first, because I was rather bored, and I wanted a job, so I applied to the Signal Corps and they were very interested at first because I had taken a course on crypto-analysis at Cornell that one of the professors was giving. It was just for his entertainment, really, but several of us took it – among the students too. And so when they heard that I had taken this course, my interviewer was very interested. Oh yes. But he asked me if I had any relatives abroad, and I said, "Yes, I'm French. I have relatives in France still." And he said, "Oh well then, I'm sorry. You're a security risk." And I said, "But they're on the right side!" He said, "No, I'm sorry, we can't consider you." And so I went home, and I was rather distressed, and in the same building was a young lady, a young woman – we had met at Cornell; she was in the Music Department – we were friendly with her there and we continued to be friendly here, and she said, "Well, try O.S.S.," and I said, "No, if the Signal Corps won't have me, O.S.S. isn't going to have me." O.S.S. – you're too young to know – is the predecessor to C.I.A. She said, "Try; I know they're looking for people." So I went to O.S.S., and they took me. So I had a job, and that was fine. And then the next thing you'll be interested in – well, my husband was happy at the change at Dumbarton Oaks, and the Director of Studies was Koehler at the time, Wilhelm Koehler; I think his first name was Wilhelm . I was rather sorry at that, because being French, I would have loved it if I had been there when Focillon was the Director of Studies, but he was gone, and it was a German instead. And I knew that Mrs. Bliss was very much of a Francophile. Anyway...what was I saying?
CW: You got a job at O.S.S.
IU: O.S.S., yeah. So, my husband was getting accustomed to Dumbarton Oaks, and he was quite happy. And he had studied publications of Koehler at Princeton, so he knew all about him, and so on, and it was very nice, very comfortable. And then, what happened next? Oh, there came the Conference –
CW: The Dumbarton Oaks Conference in '44.
IU: Yes, that was set up preliminary to the San Francisco.
CW: Right.
IU: And at that time we lived on the estate. We lived in the villa that had been originally the kennels for the dogs parading through the estate, when it was under the Blisses.
ABF: Was this by the garden? Were you right nearby the garden?
IU: It's in a hollow of the estate, and when it was turned over to Harvard, they changed it – no, before that, they changed it into a villa for Mrs. Clark, I think her name was, who was the curator, the librarian of Mrs. Bliss's rare books collection. And at that time, as I said, our apartment was in Arlington, and it was very hot. No air conditioning, of course, at that time. And I was working long hours too, at O.S.S. sometimes, when we had a report to get out. So, she said, "I'm going away for the summer for two months. Why don't you come and stay in the villa?" So we thought, "Well, fine." She had no kind of air conditioning, but it was in the hollow. In fact it was a little bit dank, but it was cool, it was cool, and there was room for my mother and Paul and me. And that's where we lived during the Conference. And it was an amusing time, because I can still remember our laundry man coming to the villa with our laundry, furious, angry. He said, "I'm an American citizen, and I have to come here under armed guard to deliver your laundry."
CW: Because the Conference was still going on.
IU: Oh yeah, oh yeah. And my husband said to me, "You know, Irène, I go up in the elevator, and there is the Secretary of State, and he greets me, and I know he thinks I'm one of his young men," you know. "Every morning, we go up and we greet each other." So, it was a really amusing time. I remember he called me once and he said, "I forgot to pick up our eggs;" – which were delivered at the front entrance – "do you mind picking them up when you come home?" So, I said, "Okay," so I rang the bell, and of course it was after working hours at Dumbarton Oaks, and I don't know who it was who answered, but it was one of the bright young men still there, and I said, "I'm sorry, but I'm Mrs. Underwood," and he said, "Oh yes, the Underwood eggs," and he got them for me.
ABF: Did you meet any big political personalities while you were there?
IU: Not political, but we met the President of Harvard, because he was part of the Conference, and he lived in one of the suites, I don't know whether it was the east end or the west end of the Fellows Building. Are you familiar with the Fellows Building?
CW: We live there, yes.
IU: Oh, you live there. I think it was probably the east little apartment there. And so we would spend evenings with him. It was very interesting. But other than that we didn't meet any of the others, no, no. But the scholars were still permitted to use their studies, which by the way were still under the roof where the domestics lived before it was given to Harvard. You know, I used to tease my husband and say he was in an ivory tower during the war, but he said, "No, you don't know what the offices, our studies, are like, under the roof, with no air conditioning."
CW: Right, it must have been hot.
IU: It was very hot. But that changed shortly thereafter, and then they were moved down, and they each had their little offices, and it was very nice. So, what else? Well, that was about it during the war, yeah. And then I left O.S.S., I went to the State Department briefly, when they were going to divide O.S.S. into the C.I.A. and part of it went to the State Department, and I was going to the State Department to hold the French desk until the rest of it came over there, and they wanted to be sure, because the man was leaving who was on the French desk at that time in biographical intelligence. So, I went there briefly, and I hated it. I really hated the State Department. It had a lot of red tape, which we never had in O.S.S., because they were mostly from the academic world, or refugees, and we were free spirits, but not in the State Department. So, I decided to leave. And anyway we wanted a child, and my doctor said, "You have to rest. You can't work these long hours." So, I had worked at the French Supply Mission, which was an easy, easy job, and then my daughter was born.
ABF: That was 1947?
IU: She was born, yeah. How did you know that?
ABF: We did our research.
IU: And I had a difficult time adjusting to being at home, so Dumbarton Oaks was very paternalistic in some ways, and I had a job, a temporary job, with the Byzantinische Zeitschrift. Do you know anything about that?
CW: No.
IU: No. Well, it was a research tool set up for scholars, and we were – well, I'll let someone over there describe it for you – but anyway, I worked on that for a time. And then Mrs. Bliss had a collection of the letters of Franz Liszt, and she wasn't satisfied with the translation that she had had made, so she asked Libby Bland – do you know about Libby Bland?
ABF: No, who is that?
IU: She was – at that time I wasn't sure whether she was really the curator of the Byzantine collection or whether there was somebody above her; I've forgotten – but later she became curator of the Byzantine collection of art. And Mrs. Bliss asked her if she would do a new translation, and Libby asked me if I would help. So, I said yes, I realized it was a pretty bad translation. I don't know who did it, if it was just a student or what. So, we both worked on that, and that was a temporary job. And then after that, sometime later, I was in charge of photography at Dumbarton Oaks – not the taking of photographs, no no, but the collection, organizing it and getting into the files and so on.
CW: Photographs of the collection or the gardens, or everything?
IU: Everything, pretty much – mostly of the artwork. No, actually, this was only of the artwork, the Byzantine Collection. But those were all temporary, part-time jobs, and then after that my husband went to Turkey for the first time I think in 1949, was it, or '50?
ABF: Well, in 1950, he took over Whittemore's position.
IU: Yeah, but before that he had gone. That was very amusing. Whittemore – you probably know about Thomas Whittemore – was getting on in age, and A.M. Friend, who was at the time Director of Studies at Dumbarton Oaks and who had been my husband's professor both as an undergraduate and as a graduate student, thought, "Well, somebody has to take over the Byzantine Institute; why doesn't Dumbarton Oaks do it? And why doesn't somebody learn about the work while Whittemore is still there?" So he sent my husband over as a sort of a – casing the joint, to see how things were going. Whittemore was a fantastic character. He was really something.
ABF: When did you meet him?
IU: I never met him, but I heard all these stories about him. So my husband gets to Istanbul and he knows there's an Englishman on the staff of the fieldwork under Whittemore, and so he makes contact with – oh dear, what is his name? I've forgotten.
ABF: It wasn't Ernest Hawkins?
IU: Yes, it was Ernest Hawkins. And Whittemore was very possessive of anything to do with the work, so he gave my husband a tourist's introduction to the work, you know, but not in the way they actually did the work, and all that, but he took him around to see it. But my husband and Ernest would meet in coffeehouses, and Ernest would tell him more about what was going on. So, my husband had a pretty good idea by the time he had finished his first trip to Istanbul, and then when Whittemore died – in the State Department, actually, he collapsed – Dumbarton Oaks took over the Byzantine Institute, and my husband was sent there as the director of the fieldwork, to take Whittemore's place and to take over. And I think he – well, I know he really enjoyed it, but it was a tricky position, because I don't know how – Whittemore was a very persuasive character, and how he managed to get Atatürk to agree to change these churches which had been turned – well they were either not used at all, and nothing was done about them, or Hagia Sofia, the greatest church in Istanbul and the one that the Greeks still revere, had been turned into a mosque, and somehow Whittemore persuaded Atatürk to turn all the Byzantine churches back into not churches, but museums. And so that's how the work started, trying to preserve the mosaics and the wall paintings.
CW: Right.
IU: Yeah, I don't know what got me on that, but anyway. What else can I say?
ABF: Was your husband excited about taking this job which would take him away from D.C. to Istanbul for such a long period of time?
IU: Well, originally he went from April to I don't know, I don't remember the dates, but November, maybe, or maybe a little earlier than that. The rest of the time – you couldn't do it in the wintertime; it was too cold – no, he was all right with that. I mean, he didn't like to travel, that's true. But he stayed put in Istanbul, except when he went to Cyprus. Of course they started doing fieldwork in Cyprus too. And he had a young Turk who was on the faculty of Robert College become more or less his mouthpiece between the Turks and taking care of official documents he had to give and so on, except once Ercüment forgot about taxes, and my husband had to appear in court, I think, and it was rather iffy, but – so, I don't know how long he did that before we joined him. I think our first trip there – you probably have this down pat, but I don't.
ABF: Was it 1952?
IU: '52, I think, yes.
ABF: Yeah.
IU: Was it '52 or was it...?
ABF: Your first winter – he writes about your first winter as being in 1953 and it was so cold that you had to put on all the clothes you brought with you.
IU: That was the second trip we took. We went earlier than '53.
ABF: Okay.
IU: Yeah. We went – I think –
ABF: – would that have been '51, maybe?
IU: '51, I think, yes, '51 we went.
CW: You, and Sarah went with you?
IU: Yeah, she went the first time, yeah. And then we came back. And then we went again in '53. We came back in '52. I don't know have the dates pat, but anyway, we were there from '53 to '55.
ABF: Okay.
IU: Yeah. And our first trip – well, my husband had gone in '50, '51, and '52 – no, when did I say? – when did we first go there?
ABF: '51, I think.
IU: '51, yeah. But he had gone there in '50.
ABF: Yeah.
IU: And prior to that he had been there once before.
ABF: Right – because there's correspondence from that time.
IU: And then we decided we would go together, and we went for one season and came back to Dumbarton Oaks, and then we went in '53, again as a family, and stayed until we came back in '55, yeah. And from then on he commuted, without us. Sarah and I stayed here. But the first time we went, that was really quite exciting, because when we were on the plane, they told us that unfortunately they had to circle, because the landing gear was sort of iffy, and they didn't know. So, they had to lighten the load of the fuel, so they went round and round, and my daughter at the age of four had been very good, really, on the trip, but she got sick at that point from the circling, you know. And then they decided, well – this was in Ireland – we're going to land, we're going to dive, we're going to go up and dive, to see if that will loosen the landing gear, so they did that. It didn't work. So, they said, "Now we're going to land." And who was on the plane but Danny Kaye? And we thought, you know, while they were doing all this, we thought, "Well, he should come out and entertain us."
CW: To lighten the mood a little bit.
IU: He was in first class. But he didn't come out, and he had quite an entourage with him. But they went up and they dove, and the landing gear came out, but in landing they burnt one of the wheels, so they couldn't go on with that plane. I don't know. So we had to get off the plane, and they changed, but we went on finally. And when we got to London the next day, where we were changing planes, nothing was in the paper about the Underwoods being on the plane, but "Danny Kaye" – a banner headline – "In Near Crash." So that was my first experience in Turkey. And it was very pleasant, because we had rented a villa up the Bosporus, or Dumbarton Oaks had rented a villa up the Bosporus, in what had originally been, of course, a Greek village, and it was charming. And there were a Greek family who I think Alexander had worked for – Whittemore – anyway we became friendly with them, and it was very pleasant. And the head of Saucony-Vacuum, one of the big oil companies, for the whole of the Near East, had been a friend of Thomas Whittemore, and Whittemore had put him up whenever he came to Istanbul, and in fact when my husband came Whittemore put him up – I don't mean Whittemore, I mean what was his name, A.V. Walker. Walker was his name, the head of the oil company – and he was very – he liked us, and he liked Sarah too, my little girl. She was very good with him, and he was very good with her. Except he would invite us to lunch sometimes, and there would be the former Spanish ambassador, the former whatever, or the current somebody or other, you know, high up, and he would invite Sarah too, at the age of four, the first time we went there. And I would always wonder, "What are we going to go through this time?" I remember at one lunch, she was at his right hand, and she turned to him and said, "You put crumbs on my seat," and he laughed and he said, "Yes, I did." It was weird. And then the time he was at our house, and so was the head of Robert College, Dr. Black, and his wife, and there was Sarah – she always came, I mean – so in the middle of lunch she turned to A.V. Walker, she said to him, "Mr. Walker, you have a beautiful garden," and then somehow I could see her thinking, and she turned graciously to Dr. Black and Mrs. Black, and said, "Mrs. Black, you have a wonderful garden." So she handled that quite well. Actually, this was not her first trip. This was – no, it was her first trip, I think. Yeah.
ABF: If she was four, then it must have been the first trip, I think.
IU: It must have...well, I don't know, because when we went back I put her in a French school, Notre Dame de Sion, she hated that, although she knew a little French, because my mother and I spoke French, but I never attempted to speak French with Sarah, which was my mistake. I really should have. But my husband did not speak French; he understood it and he read it, but he didn't speak it. He had a few words, of course, but so – what did I start to say?
ABF: Your daughter, you put her in school.
IU: Oh yeah, I put her in that French school, and she hated it. And so I put her in the English High School for Girls. Each nationality that had trade relationships with Turkey – France, Italy, Germany, I don't know what else, but those were the big three – they each had their own schools. Of course, they had to teach Turkish, which my daughter flunked, and Turkish language and history, I think.
ABF: She was tiny, wasn't she?
IU: Yes. This was the second trip, not our final trip, when she was five, maybe. But she's small now, she still is. But I put her in the English High School. When we came back, Sirarpie der Nersessian was at Dumbarton Oaks. She had been my professor at Wellesley, and in fact I had done special honors with her at Wellesley, so when she greeted me in the library – I knew she was at Dumbarton Oaks, but the first time I saw her, I was in the Georgetown Library, and she came in with her sister, and you know, we embraced, we were friends. And her sister looked at her and she said, "Are you always this affectionate with your students?" "Oh," she said, "no, no, no, no, but this is special." So when we came back from Turkey I told Sirarpie that Sarah had been to her school, and Sarah was right there, and so Sirarpie turned to her and said, "You went to the English High School? That's where I went to school. Tell me, is the salon still to the right of the building? Do you have to curtsy before the mistress?" Sarah said, "Yes, yes." It's so funny, you know: my child and my professor going to the same school in Turkey. Well, Sirarpie, as you probably know, had to flee Turkey at the time of the massacre, and I remember when Jack Thacher asked her to attend a dinner he was giving for the Turkish ambassador, and Sirarpie was – really she didn't want to go. She thought, "I can't take this." She and her sister had both fled with nothing, nothing. And you know they had to work their way eventually to Paris, but first they had to work in Switzerland and so on, until they got to Paris, and they were finally able to establish themselves there. She went to the Sorbonne. But they had a brother who changed his name to a Turkish name, and for years they didn't speak, and we knew nothing about him, until finally – I think Sirarpie waited until the second time we went to Turkey to tell us that yes, she had a brother there; before that she had never mentioned him. So, it was very hard for her to attend this dinner with the Turkish ambassador, but she thought, "Well, I'm at Dumbarton Oaks. What else can I do?" So, that was that. What else can I tell you?
CW: So you lived in an apartment, or in a villa, that Dumbarton Oaks owned?
IU: Right.
CW: At first.
IU: They rented that the first time. But the second time we went my husband had rented a house – not a house, yes, a house – in the city itself, and it was an old Turkish house, and well, it was an unhappy time in our family, because I had a breakdown while he was away in Salonica, attending a conference, and it was a very bad time, but he came back and we eventually moved to an apartment building, which was better, because there was a French family there – in fact, there were two. One of them, he was the manager of the gasworks in Istanbul, and the other one was a man that my family – and oh, he was the one that Paul had come to know, because being manager of the gasworks for the city, he had to okay the pipe work and everything. When they laid new foundations for a new building or dug up an old building or whatever, he was involved. So, he had become interested in archaeology. And he became interested in the work of the Byzantine Institute, and so my husband and he were good friends, and so I already knew these people. I had met them before. And they were in the same building, and that made it much easier for me. And then I also did volunteer work at the Y, Y.W.C.A., teaching a very small group of young women English. And that was amusing. But I made the mistake of asking them, I said, "I love Turkish cooking. I want recipes." So, they gave me recipes, but unfortunately every time we had a meeting, they would say, "Did you try this? Did you try that?" And I never did, of course, because Turkish recipes, you have to prepare them in advance, everything is done in advance, so you're very relaxed at the time, but I wasn't going to do that when I had a maid; why should I? And they always wanted to talk about movies, and I didn't know about that. You know, movies weren't my great interest at the time. And when we had lived on the shore of the Bosporus before, in the villa, there was a very nice Turkish family next door with two grown daughters, and I think they were still going to Robert College at the time – yes they were – and they became very friendly with us, and they loved Sarah, and they were forever talking about movies and wanted to know all about the stars, and I couldn't help them very much, but – and I think we went once or twice to the movies together, but they were very nice. Unfortunately, when we came back I looked them up and the younger daughter had insisted on taking a job, and her parents would have nothing more to do with her. She would have stayed home, and they would have selected a husband for her, and it was very sad. And so my daughter went to this high school, and that was very pleasant. And then came the riots in fifty –
IU: I can't remember when they came.
CW: In September '55?
IU: Probably.
CW: Over Cyprus.
IU: Yes.
CW: Yes.
IU: And I remember I was visiting, spending the evening – I went from our apartment to another apartment building down the hill on the same street, where there was an English couple who had two sons, and the two sons went to the English High School for Girls, which was co-ed, never mind that the girls were still in the title, but – and our driver would take our three children, the two boys and Sarah, to school every day, and we became friends with this English – he was, I think, at the British Consulate. I don't remember what position he had there. So, I was spending the evening there, and we were having a very nice quiet time, and suddenly my husband came over, and I said, "What?" and he said, "You have to come home right away, right away." So, I said, "Okay. What's happened?" He said, "Well, there's rioting in the city, and you'd better come home," so we walked home – it was just down a few blocks – and as we walked home there was this group of men coming up from below with clubs, whatever they could grab, and they were coming up the hill looking very, very serious, and Paul said, "Hurry, hurry, we'll get home." So, we went home, our bell rang, and it was the janitor of our apartment building, looking very upset – he was Turkish. And he said, "Madame, do you have a Turkish flag?" And I said, "No, I don't have a Turkish flag." Well, the building was owned by Greeks, and he wanted to be sure that we had a sign that, you know, said, "We're okay; no, we're not Greek." But we didn't have it, so we said, "No, we can't help you. We'll just have to take our chances." Well, nothing happened, except down the street there was a little grocery shop, and they ruined that completely, and the main drag, all merchandise – the refrigerators, whatever – were in the streets. They totaled all the shops; the Greek and the Armenian and the Jewish shops were all totaled. And then we saw them the next day – but the next morning, my husband was worried, because on his staff he had both Turks and Greeks, and he thought, "I wonder how things are," and when his driver came in the morning, he said, "Alexander, you have to take me into the old city, because I don't know what's happening there." And so he agreed, and they drove into the Old City, and he found that the Turkish members of his staff had taken in the Greek members for the night, so they were safe. So that was good. But later in the day – oh, Sarah wasn't home: she had been spending the weekend at Robert College, because the president had a daughter, and they had just come – the Valentines became good friends with us – had just come that summer to take over the position of president of Robert College, and Sarah had been spending the weekend there with their daughter; she was a year or two older than Sarah. And I said to Paul, "I want to go up to Robert College and get Sarah. I want her to be home with us." And he said, "Yeah, I think you're right, maybe," and I said, "We'll take some bread with us," because we were sure that all the shops had been looted all the way up the Bosporus too. So we called, got hold of Alexander, and said, "You've got to take us up the Bosporus." And he said, "Oh, I really don't want to," because he was from Syria, I think, and he was a Christian, and of course nobody was supposed to know that, and he was afraid for his life, you know, if they discovered it. But he finally agreed to take us. And it was all right; we got there okay. Except for, when we got there we found that the Valentines had just received the day before their pictures and other things from the States, and they were busy hanging up pictures, very calmly. We entered their living room and said, "What are you doing? Do you know what's happening in town?" "No, no." They didn't know anything about it. And I said, "We've brought you some bread, because we were afraid you were running out of, you know, bread, anything." Oh, they were just amazed that anything had happened. So, we got Sarah; we got home okay. But a day or two later the World Bank was meeting in Istanbul at the time, and among the members of the Bank was Crainer T. Young, he was a friend of the Blisses, and they knew Jack Thacher, and they were interested in the art and so on. They were in Istanbul because of the meeting of the World Bank. Crainer was not familiar with the city so my husband asked me to accompany him to wherever he wished or I suggested he see. Unfortunately, I had not realized he was an avid photographer. He began to snap the all too evident signs of the recent rioting – merchandise strewn all over the main drag from all the Greek shops etc. I asked him to put away his camera, "In this tense atmosphere, we might be attacked." "You're right, he said." She wasn't with us; it was only Crainer. So, we got together, and he had his camera with him, and we went into the city, and the stupid man was taking pictures, and you know, the main street was filled with this merchandise; nothing had been cleaned up. And it was just horrible, and he was taking pictures. And I said, "Crainer, put away your camera; you know, they'll see you, and we'll be attacked if we continue." "Oh," he said, "you're right; you're right." So we got through all right, and it worked fine. In fact, as we were going home later that year, I mean going back to America, we met them in Naples and we had dinner together, and it was very pleasant. And Mrs. Young said to Sarah, "Would you like to see the kitchen?" She said, "Oh, yes!" So, they went off to the kitchen together, you see, which the Italians were always happy to have people do that in the hotels; you know, you could go and see whatever was being done. So, Sarah enjoyed that. But that meeting and the World Bank, and of course the Turks were ashamed to have the World Bank see all this destruction, but it was their doing. And then that fall – November, I think it was – we left – or maybe late October – we left for the States.
ABF: Did you see the Blisses in Istanbul?
IU: No, they didn't come out, but the – I never remember whether it's the Kress or the Kresge –
ABF: Yeah, the Kresses.
IU: Kress Foundation. They came out while we were there, and they were entertained.
ABF: It seems as if your husband was not only working on the restoration, but dealing with all these potential benefactors who were coming through, or handling all of the finances, and these letters make it seem like he –
IU: Well, I wasn't aware of all that he did. He didn't hide things from me, but I didn't think to ask very much. And unless I was personally involved – I didn't entertain the Kresses when they came, but I know there was a dinner for them at Robert College, and we were all together, and so I met them – but he probably saw many more people that he didn't tell me about, that I don't know, unless I was involved in some way.
ABF: It seems very remarkable, looking at his letters, all that he was managing to do while he was there.
IU: Yes. Well, as I say, he didn't tell me all that happened. He protected me, as it were, I think. But he enjoyed it, and we had this good friend who became his assistant, really, and he took care of the official part with the Turks – a very good friend – and he used to take us on sightseeing tours, and have us to his house, which was an old Turkish home with decorations of flowers, of course, because they could never have figurative decorations now. And it was really lovely; we enjoyed meeting, you know, the real Turks. And unfortunately, he's retired now from the faculty at Robert College, and he's not doing very well in old age, not accepting it very well, which is bad, and I haven't seen him. I saw him last – I don't remember when my last trip to Turkey was, in the '80s. I did see him then, but – we correspond at Christmas, but that's not great. So that's about it.
ABF: And do you remember seeing other Dumbarton Oaks scholars while you were there, like I know that Kitzinger came and stayed with you in October 1963?
IU: He did?
ABF: That's what the letter said.
IU: I'm going to see if I can see these letters, yeah.
ABF: They're there, at Dumbarton Oaks.
IU: I don't even know the name of the director. Joe, what's the name of the director?
ABF: Ziolkowski.
IU: Oh, yes, somebody told me that.
IU: Does he have a family?
ABF: Yes.
JM: He has a wife too; it's a very good addition to Dumbarton Oaks.
IU: Oh, good, I'm glad to hear that, because the one before that, I don't think – well no, well yeah, he's Director. But it's still Alice-Mary, right, who is Director of Byzantine Studies, but she's going to retire, isn't she?
ABF: Yeah, mhm.
JM: She's gonna stay one more year.
IU: One more year, yeah.
ABF: Yeah, Alice-Mary told us all about you.
IU: She did?
ABF: She did. She had very kind things to say.
IU: She did? I remember once Philip Grierson was giving a little cocktail party before dinner – and dinner too, I guess – outside, and I was early, and I didn't want to be early, so I was looking into this – there used to be a sort of an antique shop at the corner, I think – and I was looking in the window there, and so I was sauntering around, wasting time, and Alice-Mary came by, and she said, "What are you doing on a street corner, Mrs. Underwood?" So I said, "Well, I'm early, I'm early." Oh, dear.
ABF: I'm just wondering if we could go back for just a second to sort of the early days and if you could –
IU: Yes, you should have stopped me.
CW: No, no.
ABF: No, no, we wanted to hear it as you remember it before we asked questions. But do you remember going to teas with Mrs. Bliss or any of those other sort of rituals besides the music concerts?
IU: Oh, I meant to tell you about the teas. Yes, the teas were originally in the Music Room, which was not – they were too formal, really. It was cold, and I didn't enjoy that particularly. But then they moved to the Founders' Room – I hope it's still called that. It's on the right-hand side down the hall.
ABF: In the Main Building?
IU: Yes, yes. At the main entrance, the main entrance to the house, beyond that, when you still go down the hall, there's a relatively small room on the right, which has – I think it has bookcases; I've forgotten now – and it used to be called the Founders' Room, I think.
JM: I think it was called the Study, and the larger room was the Founders' Room.
IU: Oh, was it? The larger room, I know, is now called the Founders' Room, but I thought the other one was – well no, probably. I don't know, I don't know.
JM: I'm as confused as you are; I've only been here 33 years.
IU: No, but I've forgotten. My memory is not reliable. Anyway, you think it was called the Study. Well, that was a smaller room, and it was very nice, and Mrs. Bliss would occasionally appear, even though Harvard had had the gift for some time now, you know, of Dumbarton Oaks, and usually it was the scholars, and they didn't have to come – I don't think my husband ever came. I don't know whether he did or not. But the younger Fellows would certainly come, and Mrs. Bliss's maid, the maid who had been her personal maid – and I don't know whether she still had duties at their home in Georgetown – but she would be there at tea time, and she would make the most delicious butter sandwiches, just butter – they were so good – on very lovely bread. So, one day Sarah and I were walking in the gardens, and I had on a denim skirt, and she had on denim slacks, and she said, "Oh, let's go to tea." And I said, "Sarah, we can't go to tea. Look at us!" And she said, "Oh, come on, Mom. I know everybody there!" she said. So, I let myself be persuaded. And unfortunately it was one of the days when Mrs. Bliss had chosen to come. And we were sitting around having tea. And as I said, Mrs. Bliss, she always tried to be friendly, you know, but she didn't quite know, so she turned and she said, "And to whom does this belong?" pointing to Sarah. And I said, "She's mine, Mrs. Bliss! She's mine!" You know, our encounters were rather strange, Mrs. Bliss' and mine.
ABF: Do you remember Mr. Bliss as well?
IU: No, no. He didn't show up very much. Well, I knew him, of course, and one of the things I remember, when he died, Mrs. Bliss, who I think had a rather soft spot for my husband, who was quite handsome – they met in the hall, and she said, "Oh, Underwood" – everybody was by their surname; she never – "I wonder, you know, Mr. Bliss, we found that he had many shirts that he didn't wear, and I was wondering if you would like them." He was just as thunderstruck as I had been in my encounters. I said, "How did you handle that?" That's one encounter he told me about. And he said, "Well, I didn't quite know, but I finally said, 'You know, Mrs. Bliss, Mr. Bliss was a much taller man than I, and I'm afraid perhaps they wouldn't fit me.'" What else could he say? I thought it was such a strange suggestion, you know. But I knew who he was, of course. We shook hands, and I went through receiving line after receiving line, and there he was, so of course I knew him. But I remember their golden anniversary, they had a reception, and there was a line to go to greet them. It went from R Street all the way to the front bit, to the main entrance of the house, you know; people waited to see them. And we were in line, we were near the R Street entrance, actually; suddenly, the word came down the line, "Mrs. Bliss would like to see Underwood; Mrs. Bliss would like to see Underwood." My husband was very reserved, and finally it reached us. And Paul was looking at us, and I said, "Well, Paul, she wants to see you; you'd better go." So poor Paul, he had to walk all the way up to the front of the line; I don't know why she wanted to see him at that point. I never did learn why she called him. He probably told me, but it didn't stick. That was so funny. Oh dear. But I really didn't know Mr. Bliss. He seemed very nice, you know. He didn't spend much time at Dumbarton Oaks. She, of course – her great interest was the garden, and she still planned, she and her landscape architect – Farr –
ABF: Beatrix Farrand.
IU: Yeah. – planned a water garden, and I mean it was pebbles imported from Scotland, and I don't know what's happened to that part of –
ABF: It's still there.
CW: By the pool, yeah.
IU: Is it still a water garden? I mean, is there water on it?
CW: It's just pebbles now; it doesn't have water.
JM: The design was flawed and wouldn't hold the water, and they redid it at the cost of many tens of thousands of dollars, and they did it wrong, and it didn't hold again.
IU: Now it holds? It never held? Before that it was a tennis court. And I remember during the war diplomats would come there and play, you know, and there were also victory gardens on the grounds that the staff had, little plots where you could grow vegetables. We never had one; we were not gardeners. So, it was a great experience, really.
ABF: Did it seem as if there was a very clearly defined social hierarchy among the scholars who were working there?
IU: No.
ABF: With regard to who was invited to lunch there?
IU: When ambassadors were invited to dine at the Fellows Building, I don't know who hosted the dinner – Mrs. Bliss or Jack Thacher. When the French ambassador came, the Underwoods were invited – I assume because of me. And when the Turkish ambassador was invited, Sirarpie Der Nersessian, an Armenian scholar, was invited – because she was born in Istanbul? I don't really know whom Mrs. Bliss invited to their home from Dumbarton Oaks. I remember there was Fanny Bonajuto, for example. Have you heard of her? She was assistant to Julia Warner, who was in charge of publications at one time, and Fanny came from a very good family in Italy, and she had married a Sicilian prince, and so she was a principessa – how do you pronounce it in Italian? Principessa or whatever.
CW: Principessa.
IU: – And she was invited to Mrs. Bliss's for lunch. Mrs. Bliss never invited me. Oh, I didn't tell you about the Christmas – I've got to – Well, the Christmas party, the Blisses.
JM: I'd like to just put another tape in before you do this. We'll run out of tape. Just pause for a minute, please.
IU: But don't waste your tape; it's just going to be one story.
JM: Well, I only have three minutes. So let me just pause.
IU: The Blisses used to give – I remember one, but I think it was more than one time – a Christmas party at their house. The members of Dumbarton Oaks received pointsettias at Christmas time and flowering plants at Easter; Mr. Kearney, head of the grounds, would deliver them, also presents from Mrs. Bliss. One year, I remember the card that came with it. I don't know whether it was always to the wives or whether I just misread the card that came with it and thought it was addressed to me. And I looked at it and I couldn't make out what it was; it was a little case – I don't even remember what it was made of. So, I wrote a thank-you note – I don't know how I phrased it, because I didn't know what the object was, but I phrased it somehow – thanking Mrs. Bliss. It was meant for my husband. And she was, she really – I heard – gave Kearney a hard time for delivering the wrong thing, delivering it supposedly to me when it should have been to my husband. I don't know what happened. I was so embarrassed to have this whole thing here. But the one I was going to tell you about, the Christmas party that I remember, was at their home in their rumpus room, where there was a Picasso on the wall, and you name it, you know, but it was what they termed the "rumpus room." And it was just for the Dumbarton Oaks Fellows and wives. And 1952 was the first year that my husband was to be accompanied by our daughter and me for his yearly sixth-month directing of the work in Istanbul, and Mrs. Bliss had presents for everybody there at the party. And mine was a very nice fitted toilet case. And I thought that was so nice, really so very, you know, gracious and very thoughtful. Usually it was her social secretary who selected them. I'm sure she gave her a list and said, "Get something," you know, so that was very nice. But like everything that Mrs. Bliss did, there was always something. Children were not invited to this party. Now that was okay with us, because my mother lived with us, and so I had a live-in babysitter, you know, Sarah's grandmother. But the Van Nices did not have a mother living with them, and they kept their children in the car, in the street, all during this party. Now, really, I would not have done that. I'm sorry. But I thought that was so bad. But you know, Mrs. Bliss didn't think of the problems that parents have sometimes. So, that was sad. That was all I was going to say.
ABF: Well, we don't want to keep you any longer, but we'd love to keep going.
IU: No really, I must go.
ABF: Well, thank you very, very much.]]>
GV: My name is Günder Varinlioğlu. The date is May 19, 2011. I have the pleasure of interviewing Ercüment Atabay, a former professor in the Department of Western Languages and Civilizations at Bogazici University. This work of oral history is a joınt project between the two departments of Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, located in Washington D.C.: namely, the Image Collections and Fieldwork Archives and the Dumbarton Oaks Archives. Before we begin, do I have your permission to record this interview?
EA: With certain reservations, yes, you do.
GV: Alright. Could you tell us your name for the record?
EA: Mehmet Ercüment Atabay.
GV: Thank you. Where and when were you born?
EA: I was born in Besiktas in 1338 of the old style and 1922 of the new style. July 25, that is.
GV: Where were your parents from? And what were their professions?
EA: My mother was a house wife, and my father was a merchant.
GV: Were they from Istanbul, too?
EA: My father is from Crimea and my mother is from Istanbul.
GV: Do you have any siblings?
EA: No, I'm the only child.
GV: Alright. Are you married? And do you have children?
EA: I'm married and I have three children: An elder daughter, a son and a younger daughter.
GV: What are their professions?
EA: This is a difficult one. My elder daughter is a Professor of English, my son is a business man and my younger daughter works for the United Nations.
GV: Can you tell us about your education?
EA: I can. First I went to the English High School for Boys in 1929. That was where I learned how to read and write and the rest. Then I passed the University of London's Matriculation in 1939. For the first semester of 1939, I was a student at Robert College. But, because I had gotten accepted to the Faculty of Literature at Istanbul University, I studied there with Mrs. Halide Edip until 1942. In the year 1942, the British Council gave me a scholarship for the United Kingdom. And so, I went from Turkey to Britain during the war in 1942. The way I went was – first from here to Egypt, then I flew from Egypt to South Africa, and after travelling from South Africa by ship for three months, I finally arrived in the UK. The university that I went to is St. Andrews, currently a famous university. This here is the tie of that university.
GV: Is it?
EA: This – anyway, I arrived there. I graduated from the History Department of St. Andrews in 1945. I returned to Istanbul in '45. I worked as Mrs. Halide Edip's assistant in the Department of English Philology of the Faculty of Literature until 1950–51 and taught classes on English Literature. I finished my Ph.D. in the year 1950 with high honors. I went to Robert College as a professor of humanities at the beginning of the year of 1951. And then, after a while Robert College – I worked there, at Robert College, until 1971, when it was closed, that is when it was renamed "Girls' College." And it was transformed into – it reopened under the name of Bogazici University. I continued teaching there. It was in 1982, I think, when I retired. This means that the total of the number of years I taught at Robert College and Bogazici amounts, more or less, to fifty.
GV: Did you do your Ph.D. with Halide Edip Adivar?
EA: Yes, I did my Ph.D. with Mrs. Halide Edip.
GV: What was the topic?
EA: The topic was "Classicism in Edmund Spenser's Work" –Edmund Spenser, the poet, of course.
GV: What courses did you teach at Bogazici University?
EA: Many –
GV: So many?
EA: I taught 26 different courses. And so let's not get into that.
GV: Let's not get into it – alright.
EA: Suffice it to say I taught courses on English Literature and European History, if you will.
GV: Alright. Let's get into Byzantium. When did you start to get interested in Byzantium?
EA: I have no personal interest in Byzantium. Mine is more – I'm interested in archaeology. I met Mr. Paul Underwood. Well, it indeed happened more like this: It was in 1947, I think. No, either in '47 or '48. There was this Professor Muller, H. J Muller. Van Nice was working in Hagia Sophia. Together with Muller, I tried recording the masons' marks there in order to help Van Nice. It was a long time – for fun, you know. During that time I was seeing Mr. Whittemore coming and going. I don't personally know Whittemore. Whittemore was such a, well, mysterious person. He would come and he would go. Nobody knew from where he collected the money. He would show up, just like that, for a while, and would not talk. He would wander around Hagia Sophia with his hat on, would sometimes chat with us, and leave. And so thereafter, as a result of our work together, Van Nice recommended me to Paul Underwood, telling him that I was his friend. When, later, Paul Underwood came here, we became friends. We were friends for a long time. After 1955 – anyhow, after Whittemore died, the Byzantine Institute, which had been a private institution to begin with, disappeared all of a sudden. Its name persisted for a while. Its works were taken over by Dumbarton Oaks. And then Underwood requested me to help him in '55, and I accepted it. From then on, until, well, until his death, I did certain jobs for him while he was a field director here. I tried acquiring the necessary permissions from the government, and, together with this, this guy, I took care of relations in Hagia Sophia, etc.
GV: So, how did you meet Van Nice?
EA: Van Nice – well, he was doing these things at Hagia Sophia. He was friends with this Mr. Muller. I met him through Professor Muller.
GV: Yes, we know about that project. How did you meet Muller, then? I mean, how did you get involved in this project?
EA: How did I meet Muller? Muller was – well, H. J. Muller was a visiting professor at the Faculty of Literature, where I was an assistant. That is how we met.
GV: Because of your interest in archaeology?
EA: No, no, not at all. I'm only curious because I am a historian; that's why.
GV: And so, this "masons' marks" was –
EA: No, we did it together for fun!
GV: Yes, I think you have recorded fifteen hundred masons' marks.
EA: Yes, well, more or less. It is written there, isn't it?
GV: Yes, it is. I saw it written in a correspondence. So, you never spoke with Whittemore? Only –
EA: We were only introduced once. I do not know much about Whittemore. He had a friend here, living somewhere on the Bosphorus. I cannot recall his name at all right now.
GV: I can tell you: Archibald Walker.
EA: Yes, Walker, that's it! He used to stay at his place. They used to be very good friends. I mean, Walker used to like Whittemore a lot. Walker used to praise his knowledge of English Literature highly. Walker and I – I only saw him a couple of times on occasion; he wasn't someone I knew. Also, he had an apartment on the Bosphorus and he used to help out Whittemore in certain things. He used to stay with him.
GV: Did Walker use to visit frequent –
EA: No, no, no, no, no. He was just a friend of Whittemore's.
GV: Yes, but you do know about his staying at his apartment.
EA: Sure, he used to stay at his apartment.
GV: Yes. So, did you have relations with anybody else working at the Byzantine Institute?
EA: Yes, I did. Byzantine Institute, wait, where? Here?
GV: Here.
EA: Its head, if you will, was Ernest Hawkins. Ernest Hawkins – he later on continued at Dumbarton Oaks. He was a sort of, a very learned, very knowing man. And so, he used to take care of all the business with the workers, etc. He would always help with projects like the uncovering of the mosaics. Also, Paul Underwood – well, not much. He used to visit frequently. And Larry Majewski! Lawrence Majewski. He took on the project as the field director or the assistant field director. One person who worked with him was Mr. Carroll Wales. He worked on the frescoes. Four, five, or six workers, most of whom were Greek, worked on cleaning the mosaics and, well, uncovering the frescoes.
GV: It seems there weren't many Turkish workers, were there?
EA: There were Turkish workers and Greek workers. Turkish workers would be hired more for – well, as masons.
GV: But it was predominantly Greeks who worked –
EA: Well, they were more – well, it was more or less equal – more or less. There was no specific discrimination, anyway.
GV: Were there any Russians?
EA: No, none.
GV: No Russians. How about any other nationality that you remember?
EA: No, there was nobody.
GV: Were the ones that you call Greek from Istanbul?
EA: Yes, yes, from Istanbul.
GV: They didn't come from abroad?
EA: No, no, they were from Istanbul. Let me try to remember something here – an American lady, who was visiting, told me how she had always wanted to see – Americans tend to be naïve like that – a Byzantine mason. I told her that if she really wanted to see one that much, I could show her one. She told me she would be grateful. "Well then," I said, "Yusuf come over here." There was this Yusuf. I told her, "Here! A Byzantine mason was just like this one." She did not get the joke but – anyway, so it was.
GV: I will not ask who Yusuf was. I presume, he was one of those who worked there.
EA: One of those who worked there.
GV: Now, to continue with my questions concerning the Byzantine Institute: Do you know about Foto Iskender?
EA: Yes, my dear, I do. There used to be some – Sebah Joaillier, and it is their – at the turn of the century – well, it is the most famous photographer here, this Sebah Joaillier. So, much that they had also taken our school pictures at the time and everything. Photography, then, used to be –
GV: You mean when you were in Robert College?
EA: No, this was at the English High School.
GV: English High School.
EA: They were taken when I was there. That's not important. They were the ones who took them. He did not do anything with anyone anymore after the cameras were brought. I mean, Majewski would take the photographs and we would print them, ourselves, at the apartment in, in Cihangir.
GV: I asked, because in our records it is written that all of the photographs of the Byzantine Institute were taken by Foto Iskender.
EA: It may well be the case.
GV: Could it?
EA: Yes, because they were the one during the time of the Byzantine Institute. It was after Dumbarton Oaks took over that they were let go. Only then did we start to take photographs ourselves. I could not, but Majewski took photographs.
GV: Yes. This one will be a bit of a side question but, do you know anyone by the name of Nicholas Victor Artamonoff?
EA: By the name of what?
GV: Artamonoff.
EA: No.
GV: Nicholas Artamonoff.
EA: I don't know him.
GV: You don't know him. You were a student of Sven Larsen. Have you ever – because Sven Larsen was also very interested in Byzantium, in archaeology.
EA: Well, Larsen. The year 1939 – Mr. Larsen was my mathematics teacher during the first semester of the '39–'40 academic year, when I was a student at Robert College. I don't know how interested he was. I only have this one memory of him: One day I was at the Hagia Sofia Mosque, where I used to go pretty frequently, anyway. He came up and I remember him shouting: "This wonderful space!"
GV: You have already mentioned him but, how did you meet Underwood? Did Van Nice –
EA: Through Van Nice. He gave him my name when he was coming here. We met. We came home. We were friends for a long time. I started helping them out with work after '55, anyhow.
GV: Do you have any other, more personal, memories of Underwood that you would like to share? What was the nature of your friendship? How was Underwood's personality?
EA: He was, really, very nice! How shall I say? It is difficult to answer such kind of questions. He was a little timid – I don't know. He was a very loving person. He did not have much to tell. He trusted me. Together, we – so, I was helping him. In certain respects, he was a bit too – for example, he would let things out. Like, for example, when he would be talking to the Director of the Hagia Sophia Museum, and I would be translating, for example, and even when the Director would prefer to not hear something, he would keep on telling it. I would then work on saving the situation, etc. We quite often had anecdotes like that.
GV: Was this with Muzaffer Ramazanoglu?
EA: No, dear, not with Ramazanoglu. This is before Ramazanoglu, with Feridun Dirimtekin.
GV: Now, I think you were playing a major role in the bureaucratic procedures during the abandonment of this Byzantine Institute and its transformation into Dumbarton Oaks. There is a correspondence where you tell Paul Underwood not to change the name Byzantine Institute. You advise them that, even if they do change the name, they should at least keep the term "Byzantine" in the new institutional title. You tell them that it should be so because the Byzantine Institute had managed to establish a good place, a good reputation in Turkey; should there be such a transformation, the new institution should sustain ties with the Byzantine Institute.
EA: Yes, exactly. That is correct – because the other one was Ataturk. Mr. Whittemore had talked to Ataturk. There is a document by Ataturk that states the mosaics to be uncovered. This document was lost by Dumbarton Oaks.
GV: I was about to ask that –
EA: That, that –
GV: We never saw this document.
EA: It must have lost it. This is a fundamental mistake. And then, later, approximately – well, I do not remember its date, and I never cut it out to keep it. But this Turkish – Ataturk Foundation would issue a different calendar each year with different photographs from Ataturk's life. I think it was ten years from now, that they included a photograph talking to Whittemore. It was a large photograph. Not many people knew it. It was, of course, only me who understood who that was.
GV: Yes, so there was a single document. And that was probably given to Whittemore and then got lost –
EA: That must have been lost.
GV: Yes. So, as you have already mentioned, your affiliation with Dumbarton Oaks started in 1955.
EA: Approximately.
GV: Approximately…It seems to have intensified in the '60s.
EA: Well, it continued, like that, until – until Underwood died. After him Cyril Mango became the, well, the field director. Lawrence Majewski was responsible for the field direction here. Later he left to teach at New York University. It all started to bog down slowly thereafter coinciding with the time of Cyril Mango. The name remained for a while. The closing down of the apartment in Cihangir, I think, was in 1974. The director of Dumbarton Oaks around that time was Bill Tyler. It was Bill Tyler. His son – well, his daughter and son-in-law were working here at the consulate. The name – it'll come to me now. At any rate, I packed away the furniture in the apartment in Cihangir. There was a library there. We had bought this library from the renowned, well, the renowned Byzantine scholar Mambouri many years ago during the time of Underwood. I think it was bought for something like two thousand dollars at the time. This library had been set up in the apartment in Cihangir. Some of the books there – Dumbarton Oaks wanted some of them, which we then sent. The remaining ones were donated to ARIT, the American Research Institute here.
GV: Yes. How about – you have done many things for Dumbarton Oaks, but how about your actual responsibilities.
EA: Honestly, my responsibility was utterly ambiguous, meaning subjective. Whenever there was like – for example, if there was need for a new tire, and at the time it was a bit – well, I would go to the distributor, talk to them about it, and get the tire. I mean, I had such kinds of responsibilities, as well. Or, for example, there would be a need for permission from the Directorate of Museums, and I would help the correspondence therewith. So, such kinds of things.
GV: But there is no written contract or document defining your responsibilities?
EA: No, no, no, no, no, entirely subjective. I mean with – I was only helping Paul. That's all.
GV: So, always through Paul Underwood?
EA: I was helping Paul Underwood. We would also go when he was not here. I would go to Kariye Mosque and would relate the necessary instructions to the masons, etc. Paul Underwood would stay here for very short periods, and so I was spending more time with Majewski.
GV: Meaning, you were not responsible to a specific person? It was more of a friendship?
EA: Yes, okay, that is it.
GV: So, there was no official contract?
EA: No, no, no, there was no such thing.
GV: I read another correspondence between you and Paul Underwood in 1962, whereby you write: "I am not concerned by your calling me "the secretary." "But so far," you state, "…I have always helped Dumbarton Oaks in a subjective manner until now." You wrote that in '62, and two years later, in 1964, there still isn't a trace of this official title of yours. And yet, you also tell Underwood that he had better avoid referring to you as 'secretary' or 'translator' in his official correspondence with Turkish authorities, since that may create certain problems.
EA: That is correct.
GV: Well, why is that? Can you, please, explain?
EA: No, well, I did not have any official – I actually don't really remember the circumstances then. That was long, I don't know, about fifty years, ago.
GV: Yes. But, I mean, how did the Turkish authorities recognize you?
EA: The Turkish authorities? Well, I was friends with the director of Hagia Sofia, anyway, and work was completely on Hagia Sophia. Both Kariye and Fethiye were connected to Hagia Sophia. And even though Fenari Isa was itself not connected, the excavation there, too, was connected to it. And I – I was friends with Mr. Feridun. In cases of need for correspondence I would be the one to get through to him.
GV: Yes. So, for the Turkish authorities you were only a help.
EA: They would not even know my name.
GV: Interesting.
EA: No, I mean there was no – we didn't have much to do with Turkish authorities at any rate.
GV: So, only when acquiring permission.
EA: Permission – well, the permission had been granted to begin with, and was still valid. And there was no other.
GV: How about your friendship with Feridun Dirimtekin? I mean –
EA: He was the director of Hagia Sophia. We met there. We became friends.
GV: Yes. Alright then, we will talk a little bit about money now. You seem to have been responsible for the management of Dumbarton Oaks's funds, as well. As far as I understand, this money couldn't be transferred to an account under your name. Instead, it was brought to you by Hawkins or another person who would be coming here at the beginning of the season.
EA: Now, here is how it was: The Greek workers were paid in the winter, as well. Because the rest were day-laborers, their work would be terminated by the winter. They would leave the bulk sum of their salaries to me. I would distribute the salaries at the beginning of each month. That was all there was to it.
GV: Why were they transferring the money to your account, but coming to you, as such, with cash? Is there –
EA: No. At the time there was a strange – I don't comprehend the way they dealt with money.
GV: I mean, is the way they would bring such a bulk of money to you about transfer –
EA: Like – that's – nothing difficult. It's a simple matter. A certain amount of money would be – well, a "gratuitous bailee" – that is how they call that, you know. They would leave it. I would then make the monthly payments from this sum. This is all.
GV: Why were the Greeks paid in the winter while the Turks were day-laborers?
EA: Well, they were – Turks. There was no such discrimination. The others – they were artists. They were hired for a year. They would clean mosaics, etc. The others were laborers. That is to say they would lift masonry, and such – whatever there would be. It wasn't because of some discrimination between Turks and Greeks. Some were artists, others were not.
GV: So, Dumbarton Oaks would pay a pension then? A retirement and –
EA: No, no retirement or anything. Everyone's tax was paid. I mean, there was nothing – well, nothing unlawful would be carried out. There was this Mr. Emcet, who was a lawyer, and he would do their – the records of all of them were held at the Eminonu Taxation Office. Their employment history would be recorded in these official cards. So it was –
GV: While you are at it can you mention more about Mr. Emcet?
EA: Emcet Agis.
GV: Emcet Agis.
EA: Lawyer.
GV: But, apparently, also this – Archibald Walker was Socony-Vacuum Oil's –
EA: He was the former director of it.
GV: Yes, and Mr. Emcet, their lawyer –
EA: He was the lawyer of Socony. That was how they met each other to begin with. They must have met so.
GV: So, must they have met through Walker?
EA: I do not know, dear, I do not know.
GV: You do not know this. Yes, alright then, let's get into this apartment in Cihangir called Yildiz. Did you rent this? Did you see about this apartment? Was it you who found it?
EA: Honestly, let me tell you this: When Paul Underwood first came here, we rented, from a friend, this apartment right across here. This one right here. They were friends of ours.
GV: Right here?
EA: Right over here.
GV: On Husrevgerede?
EA: Yeah, over here. Anyway – but then around that time there was a – a sad situation. Let's leave that. Let's leave the private life aside. After then there – I'll tell you about it off-the-record. Anyway, they found the apartment in Cihangir. Paul Underwood found it. I don't know how he found it. I had nothing to do with that.
GV: But you were – well, you prepared it for the visitors, members of the team or, at any rate, for –
EA: I mean, the apartment – I would have the key when they would not be here. For example, Striker would come and stay there. And he would stay, and then leave, and then if another one of them – he would come and stay. There was, well, David Oates. Professor David Oates stayed. George Forsyth stayed, too.
GV: And what did Saban Kolat do?
EA: Saban? Well now, Saban is a mystery. Saban, you see, was the "all around man." He was there at the time of Whittemore, as well. He was Hawkins's man. It is not possible to explain what he – well, what Saban was doing. He was – well, he was our connection man. One would give him the money and have him get things, or ask him to fetch a specific artisan. He was a man like that. Exactly like that. It would be a lie if I said his job there was clear-cut.
GV: What was he doing exactly? What are certain things in your mind?
EA: It really is very difficult! I don't know – say, he would find the artisans and the foremen, or he would send out payments and things – and things like that.
GV: Would he work as a laborer, too?
EA: No, no, no. Saban would be wearing a tie with his shirt, he was no laborer.
GV: He was not a laborer, but he was also not an educated –
EA: He was a – a trusted friend, if you will.
GV: He was so, but didn't have a profession?
EA: No, no, he didn't have a profession.
GV: Yes.
EA: He was a corsair during World War Two – One – Two.
GV: World War Two?
EA: [Laughs]
GV: Yes. Saban Kolat, isn't it?
EA: Kolat, that's right.
GV: Kolat is his last name. You are saying that it was Whittemore who found him?
EA: He was Whittemore's man to begin with. He later stayed on.
GV: When did he pass away?
EA: I don't remember.
GV: You do not remember. You mentioned an apartment near here. Was it this – I came across, in the documents, a place called Pansiyon Villa Rest on Kalipci Street at Apartment 104 – Hawkins and Cyril Mango had stayed there. It says that –
EA: I do not know this one.
GV: You don't know this one. Alright. Providing the journals and books from here was among the duties that you fulfilled for Dumbarton Oaks, I think. I've come across one entitled "Belle –"
EA: Belleten! I don't know what happened to it.
GV: And so, were you finding –
EA: I just was at booksellers – I would purchase books for libraries. I would –
GV: For the one in Deniz Apartment or for the one at Dumbarton Oaks?
EA: For the one here. I was buying them here. Dumbarton Oaks, later on took some books and they – we had bought, this, Mambouri's library as a whole. And then later with Paul Underwood – you have heard the name Mambouri, haven't you?
GV: Of course I have.
EA: We bought it and put it there. Actually when the library was dismantled I took most of those custom-made shelves there. The salvaged shelves are here at home. After that Dumbarton Oaks asked for some of those books. I mailed them to them. The ones that were left – well, Robert College wanted some, and they were donated to Robert College. And well, the rest – No, they were not! Robert College bought those! The college paid the money to, well, Dumbarton Oaks. The rest – I the rest were reference books. And so – was it the year of '74? – I think it was '74, when we were moving out of the apartment. Thereafter, I – Loerke was working there at the time as – as the field – well, director of studies. W. C. Loerke. Thereafter, I met with – I knew him very little. He was not a very nice person, anyway. Did you know him?
GV: I did not.
EA: That's good. You didn't miss much. Don't put this in, it's off the record.
GV: [Laughs] Alright.
EA: After that they told me to give them to ARIT, to the American Research Institute. So I gave all the books to – well, to the director there, who was Lowry, Heath Lowry. The one who is currently working at Princeton University as – well, he is a professor. He used to be the director of that. I gave all of those books to them. I took them there.
GV: Yes. Were you, perhaps, living on Akaretler at some point?
EA: Me? No! I am still living where I was born, my child. I live approximately – I was born ten meters below here.
GV: Yes. Were you organizing parties or dinners here for the Dumbarton Oaks affiliates?
EA: No, my friends would come over for dinner.
GV: So, normal – nothing special. I will now go back to the year of 1956. Again, in a document I read you write to Underwood, "I want to use equipment belonging to Dumbarton Oaks in Hagia Sofia and Kariye." You ask for permission to do so. Was that for your own research? Given that you asked for Underwood's permission, it must have been for a project unrelated to Dumbarton Oaks.
EA: Honestly, you are right. But I really don't remember.
GV: We have already talked a little bit about this, but, so Underwood consults you about both field work and plans for future projects. And you were also – you would visit certain sites in the winter and write your impressions of the works of Turkish specialists to Underwood. Have you ever – were you ever present at works undertaken by Dumbarton Oaks in Kariye or Fenari Isa? I mean, did you work there or would you just be visiting?
EA: No, I would work there. I was going every day. I was going in the day time and, you know, checking things. But, I mean, of course, I was not actually doing anything. I would talk to the workers if need be and whatever. It was like that. I was Underwood's – when he was away we were with Majewski, who doesn't speak Turkish.
GV: Did Underwood speak Turkish?
EA: No.
GV: Hawkins?
EA: Hawkins? Well, he knew some nonsensical things. He was a little – put colloquially, he was a little out of it. I mean –
GV: His mind?
EA: But he knew his job well. He was good. In that respect he had a bit of an inferiority complex, thinking, well, that he didn't have a degree. And yet he would outdo many degree-holders in his knowledge.
GV: Yes, but, it seems Turkish people liked Hawkins very much.
EA: They did. So they did – Ernest Hawkins.
GV: Apparently you had also conducted photographic recording projects.
EA: What, dear?
GV: The project of photographing.
Atabey: Honestly I – I would help him – I was not photographing.
GV: But it seems you were organizing their production?
EA: They were taking them themselves. Majewski used to take all the photographs.
GV: Alright. Have you ever come across Yani Makridis?
EA: Yani Makridis? Well, now – his name would be written there.
GV: Yes.
EA: He was working mainly on the frescoes as an assistant to Carroll Wales. Later on, Carroll Wales left here and went to Boston. He opened a studio there – for restoration work. And his, well, his Greek friend – his name was not Yani, though. Help me out here. It was –
GV: Koco?
EA: Koco! Koco. Koco was his name. He –
GV: Is Koco another person?
EA: There were two Kocos. This one was – he was Carroll Wales's friend. And he used to do – cleaning frescoes. Later on they left for Boston together. He helped him in a studio. Later on – after a while he died of cancer.
GV: Do you know Koco's last name?
EA: I can't recall right now.
GV: Who was the other Koco, then?
EA: He used to work on – well, on mosaics.
GV: Do you mean he was cleaning them?
EA: Cleaning mosaics.
GV: So Yani Makridis is –
EA: Yani is someone else. He was like that, too. He was also mosaic – they would do mosaic and fresco cleaning.
GV: He was not a photographer, then?
EA: No, no, he was not a photographer. Larry Majewski would take all the photographs.
GV: We saw his name in the context of a photography project and wondered if he did photographing –
EA: No, dear, he was not. He did not take photographs.
GV: Yes. So, you were also doing, well, you were taking the foreign visitors and –
EA: The visitors – I would greet – well, like a protocol. When an important person would come – I met Igor Stravinsky. It was me who showed Katherine Hepburn around. It was me who showed Bernstein around. It was me who showed Adenauer around – I mean Chancellor Adenaur – together with Adnan Menderes, I did his – I mean everyone would go there. I even made a list of people that I'd met.
GV: You have a list of that here at home?
EA: It is here. Now – of the ones I remember.
GV: Is there anything that you would like to tell us about them? – any anecdotes?
EA: There's this one, where Adenauer asked me, "What do you do?" I said that I was, well, I said I was a professor. He responded, "How I wish that I, too, stayed that way." This is all.
GV: Yes. Well, you were helping Dumbarton Oaks to get work permits.
EA: My child, this business of getting permissions of Turkish authorities is a sensitive issue. Let me tell you one: Ševčenko is a little obstinate. He likes himself a lot. He came here – I mean several times. He even told me once, while we were walking on the street, "I am headless." And I told him, "You do have a head, it is just that it does not work." He could not say a word. Anyway – he wanted to get this one permission. He said that he had written to the museum in Ankara and got a response the following day. "See," he said, "This is a record!" "What was the response?" I asked. "No!" Well, now – [Laughs]. He resumed silence. They wrote such nonsense that Ankara, without giving it much thought, sent away the rejection – there are three ways of acquiring, or well, getting a response from Turkish authorities. You write to them: In one kind of case they say "yes", that is fine. Another one is that they say "no," and that is fine, too. Yet another one comes about when they don't respond. When they don't respond, one shouldn't push it. If you push it, it resolves into a "no." And if you wait it resolves into a "yes." This – well, I was the only person actually doing this. These Americans tend to be a bit tactless. They, themselves – poor Paul was like that, too, and that was why he used to trust me in these matters.
GV: Would you travel to Ankara?
EA: No, no, no, no, not at all! – only from here by mail.
GV: By mail.
EA: No, no – not so – no such thing.
GV: Were you translating the documents, as well? Because the permissions were likely to have been written in Turkish.
EA: It was no big deal. A document would be written in Turkish, signed, and posted. Not much of a – we did not have much to do. The permission had already been granted and it went on being valid.
GV: Yes. I have a question about the Kariye Mosque project, now.
EA: Go ahead, dear.
GV: Now – Dumbarton Oaks was having made the canvas replicas of these frescoes –
EA: They made a replica of it.
GV: A replica.
EA: Carroll Wales made it. One of them – it was sent to Dumbarton Oaks. The one that went there, by the way is of, well, when Jesus went down to Hell, and, well, the one with him resurrecting Mary and Adam. They asked for permission to send it abroad. The permission for this was my – the dean of the Academy of Fine Arts was a friend of mine. I went there, got it signed, took it, and we sent it away.
GV: Carroll Wales did not do it himself, it seems.
EA: Carroll Wales – he made the replica.
GV: So he made it? There was also mention of Charles Compton.
EA: Ah, yes, sorry! Compton made it. It was Compton who made it. Carroll Wales did the cleaning – Compton made it. That is correct, I am sorry.
GV: Alright. Then there is this issue of – to our knowledge it was made in the 1950s. But it only reaches Dumbarton Oaks, much later, in 1963.
EA: It wasn't until the '60s?
GV: Not until the '60s.
EA: The replica was made slowly by Philip Compton. Philip Compton was – he was making these replicas for a long time at the – and then he left to work at the British Museum. Thereafter he went to the Ashmolean Museum as a restorer.
GV: So, where were these replicas kept in the winter? They are quite large and –
EA: What?
GV: These replicas –
EA: Honestly, I think they were at –
GV: – they are said to have remained in Turkey for about a year.
EA: They were not that large. They were stored in the, well, this southwest room, also known as the priests' room. It must be mentioned there.
GV: So, that room was in use?
EA: Yes, it was.
GV: Alright, let's now talk about Turks. I have a question about Semavi Eyice.
EA: Go ahead, dear.
GV: Once again, this is something that I have come across in the correspondences. Coinciding with the correspondence between you and Underwood in 1963, Underwood was planning on working in Fenari Isa Mosque. You tell him that he can see Semavi Eyice, who is a friend of yours, about it. You tell him that he could, well, you tell him that you will let him know of his response. How was your relationship with Semavi Eyice?
EA: Semavi, dear, is a professor at Istanbul University. He is still alive.
GV: I know.
EA: Anyway, he was a friend of mine from Istanbul University – because, well, I knew most of the people who worked at the Archaeological Museum. I would visit frequently since childhood. And so, Semavi was there and also – anyway, it'll come to me now. That is how I knew him.
GV: Was he a close friend of yours?
EA: No, he was not. I visited his apartment a couple of times. I mean, he was not especially a good friend. He had given me his books as presents, and things like that.
GV: But Mr. Semavi had no affiliation to Dumbarton Oaks?
EA: No, he has no affiliation.
GV: Yes, so, I will now get into the projects of Sarachane and Kalenderhane.
EA: Harrison!
GV: Yes. I –
EA: This is what you just got into: Harrison.
GV: Martin Harrison.
EA: Martin Harrison.
GV: And Lee Striker, of course, first in Bodrum Mosque, and later in Kalenderhane. This –
EA: Lee Striker. Do you know Lee Striker?
GV: Lee Striker is my thesis advisor. I did my Ph.D. with Lee Striker.
EA: Okay, then, in that case.
GV: No, no, please, do tell!
EA: If you know him, then there's no need.
GV: Yes, but this will be recorded.
EA: Don't record it.
GV: Why not?
EA: Nothing. It's alright. Don't worry.
GV: [Laughs] I wish I hadn't told you.
EA: No.
GV: How about Martin Harrison?
EA: Martin Harrison, my child, was – I think he was at the University of Manchester, I am not sure. He was doing the excavations at Kalenderhane. No, no, not at Kalenderhane, at Sarachane. He didn't have much to do with, well, with Dumbarton Oaks. And that was all there was. We didn't have much to do with each other. I think I was the one who got their permission. I helped him out, etc. And then he, the poor soul, died.
GV: Yes. But it seems that you had also helped Lee Striker – in Bodrum Mosque.
EA: As well as in Kalenderhane.
GV: So, did you use to visit those sites?
EA: No, no, he would work there by himself. I mean I had helped Lee Striker, sort of, indirectly.
GV: Yes.
EA: He is alive, isn't he?
GV: Yes, he is.
EA: How old is he now?
GV: How old?
EA: He must be in his late seventies.
GV: He is in his late seventiess right now, yes. Yes. So, you helped in the acquisition of the permission for this Sarachane project, as you have mentioned.
EA: Yes I did.
GV: But you were also helping to provide work force and equipment.
EA: No, I did not help out in Sarachane. That, Harrison used to do by himself.
GV: He did himself – but then how about the supplement of the missing photographs, payments? Did you not have anything to do with those?
EA: No. Well, you mean for Sarachane, don't you?
GV: For Sarachane.
EA: No, no.
GV: Nothing to do there, either, then.
EA: And then there is this Zeyrek Mosque. You haven't gotten to that yet.
GV: If you could tell us about it now that you have mentioned it – and that you have said you didn't do much at Sarachane.
EA: No. In Zeyrek Mosque, it was Peter Megaw. His name should be mentioned there.
GV: Yes.
EA: His real name was Arsenal Megaw, but they called him Peter.
GV: Why is that?
EA: I don't know.
GV: Nobody knows.
EA: Peter's real name was Arsenal Megaw. He came here for a year as an assistant to – I do not know for what. It was at the – the floor of Zeyrek Mosque was uncovered. The floor there was this very beautiful – there is a term for it, "opus sectile," or something. They uncovered that floor. Many glass, stained glass, were found there. This stained glass is very important. Peter worked on those there for a long time – because, in that period – apparently, it was thought that stained glass had not yet existed in that period. So, that was something. And then something rather strange happened. It was in the Kariye mosque. George Forsyth came and did an excavation there in the – this excavation revealed the – the reliquary box there. So, the reliquary box was found. It was, like, a lead box. The same excavation also revealed some of this stained class. I am not sure if it was that they couldn't understand the value of these – this stained glass. I kept some eight to ten kinds, or pieces, of that glass because I am a collector. That is, I took them. The rest were all thrown away. They were chucked away like that. And then later on when they found out that this was very important I gave the pieces I had to Peter Megaw. And so, it was revealed in Kariye that stained glass did exist in that period.
GV: Yes. Anything else that you may remember about Zeyrek?
EA: Honestly, there is – there is another thing I remember from Zeyrek! They excavated this large marble thing with a relief, whose shape I don't remember exactly. But through that it was understood to have been taken from Sarachane.
GV: How about works at Fenari Isa, did you ever visit –
EA: I know that one, too. There at the Fenari Isa site – there were not many mosaics uncovered there. Some frescoes were found. There, they did – I mean, it was a functioning mosque, anyway. No such big project was carried out there. Only a few frescoes were revealed. For example, here, let me give you one off-the-record: Now, we were doing certain things without asking permission. Because I was friends with Mr. Feridun. Now, for permission, Mr. Feridun didn't want to know, because if he did he would have to act. He didn't want to know; he condoned. Now, for example, Paul, tactless as usual, would tell him, we are doing these things because you gave permission! Mr. Feridun would turn a blind eye. And so, I would negotiate between the two of them.
GV: Were these happening in Fenari Isa?
EA: This would be happening more generally.
GV: In general.
EA: In general.
GV: Since you know Majewski, did you also help him with the discovery and transportation of this – this well-known fresco? It was a very small project.
EA: I must have. I don't really remember.
GV: Okay, so who else do you remember from that time? How about Cyril Mango?
EA: Cyril Mango was a friend of mine from high school. We were in high school – I graduated from the English High School for Boys here, and so did Cyril Mango. He is a high a school friend of mine. Later on, I went to St. Andrews University and Cyril Mango did so too, after me. Anyway, so – he would visit here. He would come and go and when he would come I would see him, etc. He is younger than me. He is 82 years old, and I am 89.
GV: So you are old friends?
EA: Well, old acquaintances. He is a very good scholar.
GV: Is there anything else that you would like to mention about Cyril Mango?
EA: No, nothing. He was, like, cynical and extremely intelligent. And so – A very good scholar.
GV: You have mentioned Ihor Ševčenko.
EA: Ševčenko. Ševčenko is strange – the way he is.
GV: Yes. And Martin Harrison?
EA: To be honest, he was like, well, a happy school-boy! [Laughs] He was a very nice gentleman. We did not have much of a friendship.
GV: Megaw?
EA: Megaw was a typical "English civil servant." He had worked as the director of a museum in Cyprus at some point. What else – he used to find our work a little strange. He would – "It's rather a strange institution," he would say, and could never figure it out.
GV: How about David Winfield?
EA: David Winfiled. He never worked with us. He had worked mainly in the Sumela Monastery. Anyway – he came here. He is a bit of a bad lot. Well, I mean, I say this off-the-record. There – I will not say any more.
GV: And Robin Cormack? Did you ever run into him?
EA: No, never. I am not sure if he visited here.
GV: He had worked at Hagia Sofia with Hawkins for a short period of time.
EA: That must have been before me.
GV: He was –
EA: I don't know him.
GV: Alright. And you will not say anything about Lee Striker?
EA: No, there's nothing to be said! You know him very well, at any rate.
GV: We were curious about what you might know.
EA: No, that's alright.
GV: Alright.
EA: For example – let's take, for instance, the apartment in Cihangir. I was responsible for its – he would call from there to tell me how it had not been properly cleaned. I mean, he is a bit of a rude one.
GV: Now, about Van Nice – I think you were pretty close. You were communicating with each other very frequently.
EA: Honestly, it was through him that I had gotten involved with Dumbarton Oaks to begin with.
GV: What was he like? What were the things that he –
EA: Well, he was working in Hagia Sophia on the – he was making plans. There is not much to say. He had worked, I think, in Iran, before.
GV: In Isfahan.
EA: In Isfahan. He had worked in Isfahan. He had a friend, who – this friend of ours would always tell him "When you were in Abyssinia…," and he would respond "I was not in Abyssinia, I was in Isfahan." A couple of months would pass by, and then again: "When you were in Abyssinia…" "I was not." He would forget and respond. We were, well, we didn't have much to do with each other. We knew each other. It was because of his friendship with Herbert Muller that we went to do the masons' marks, in the first place.
GV: And so this work of yours – did Muller take it or –
EA: Muller.
GV: – or was it given to Van Nice?
EA: Nobody was given anything. Van Nice was asking for this, I mean, to be done. And Muller was interested – Muller is a historian. I have some eight or nine books of his. We had travelled together in Anatolia and things like that. He is not an archaeologist at all. We were doing that – recording the masons' marks for fun.
GV: No, but this "masons' marks" document is in our archives. I don't think that there are any names written on it. So, apparently, you made it together with Muller.
EA: I made it with Muller.
GV: There is a draft of it there.
EA: We would do this thing with this black material on paper, and the mark would come out.
GV: Yes, so you were doing that. Alright. Did you meet Van Nice's family? Were they –
EA: Yes, I met them. But I can't remember, really.
GV: You don't remember much.
EA: Her name was Betty, wasn't it?
GV: Betty Van Nice.
EA: Betty Van Nice.
GV: But they seem to have stayed here for a while and their children went to Robert College.
EA: That may be right.
GV: You don't remember them. Then, now, quite a number of students from, well, from Robert College seem to have worked at projects of Dumbarton Oaks, especially those of Van Nice. Did you help organize –
EA: No, I never helped with that.
GV: You never helped Van Nice?
EA: No, not that. I knew some of those students; they were my students. I mean, that was a coincidence. It had nothing to with me finding them or anything.
GV: Who are they? – their names.
EA: I don't remember at all.
GV: You don't remember. But, from what we see in the correspondence, you would go and visit the works of Turkish archaeologists. And then you would write your impressions of them to Van Nice. Among these commentaries, the one that attracted my attention the most was Muzaffer Ramazanoglu's work. You didn't –
EA: Well, Ramazanoglu was the director of Hagia Sofia. He was a strange man. He was a very vain and rude man! We didn't have much to do with each other. I tend to avoid conflict with people. We didn't have much in common. And so, he was, at some point – Paul and I would go and we would sit there. Ramazanoglu hadn't started working at Hagia Sophia, yet. He would come by and – strike dully into conversation and leave like that. I mean, I didn't have much to do with him.
GV: Alright.
EA: I knew Mr. Feridun better. Feridun Dirimtekin, that is. Feridun Dirimtekin was a former military officer. And also – I mean, he was a military officer in the old days. But he was interested in things Byzantine. He even published a book entitled "Fortifications of Istanbul."
GV: And so, these visits of yours to excavation sites – from what I can gather you were visiting them regularly over the winter. You were checking what was being done and how these buildings were. Was that a result of your own personal interest?
EA: Well, I mean, like, it was help. I was a full-time professor here in the winter, anyway. I would go and have a look on some Tuesday afternoons, when I would be free.
GV: Alright. I had seen, on a letter that you had written to Underwood, "Ercument Atabay, Pantologist" in the letterhead section.
EA: Pantologist. [Laughs]
GV: What's the story behind that?
EA: Well, I came up with this made-up word, "pantologist," on my own. It means "a person who deals with all things." I came up with that word. I had even had it printed on paper – I got printed this mailing paper that read "Humanistic Studies Research Institute, Ercument Atabay, Pantologist." There are some interesting anecdotes about that. [Laughs] So, this is how it came about.
GV: What are the stories?
EA: I don't mean any story as such. But, for example, we needed this one book by Oxford Press. And they would not give it to us – I mean, sell it. And so I removed this "pantologist." I'll show you.
GV: Sure.
EA: Instead I wrote…I sent it as just "Humanistic Studies Research Institute." And they sent it. They sent the book.
GV: [Laughs] When did you adopt this – this title? When did you declare yourself a "pantologist"?
EA: My child, this was sixty years ago. [Laughs] sixty to seventy.
GV: We were very intrigued by it.
EA: And no one would know what it does there, because I made it up.
GV: [Laughs]
EA: You know there is this word "polymath." "Pantologist" corresponds to that.
GV: Have you ever visited Dumbarton Oaks?
EA: Yes, I have.
GV: Would you tell us about it?
EA: In 1966 –
GV: Yes? Were you invited?
EA: No, dear. Robert College had sent me for a conference. It was at Bennington College. And that was my first time in the United States. That was also when I went to Washington to see Paul. He was – I visited the Dumbarton Oaks building. It was – well, it was Grierson who showed me around the building.
GV: Philip Grierson.
EA: Philip Grierson that is.
GV: Who did you meet while you were there?
EA: I didn't meet anyone.
GV: What were your impressions of Dumbarton Oaks?
EA: Well, Philip Grierson was an English person with a wonderful sense of humor. "Look," he said, "let me show you the most crucial section of this building." And he took me to the boiler room of the building. "Here is something that you cannot find anywhere else," he told me, "you can leave out the rest." Because, really, it was something – like a factory.
GV: Alright, but you had helped Dumbarton Oaks substantially, and yet, they never officially invited you?
EA: No, no, no, what would they do that for? I didn't have anything to – I mean I was not a scholar or anything. My – well, my degree is in medieval history.
GV: Alright. I have a couple of more personal questions. Again related to something that I'd come across in a correspondence, something that involves both Ernest Hawkins and Dumbarton Oaks. It is referred to as "Jan affair."
EA: What affair?
GV: "Jan," as in the proper name, J-A-N. "Jan affair." I think that this person had also worked at the Byzantine Institute. They considered suing Dumbarton Oaks about a particular affair, but then decide not to.
EA: Who is that?
GV: I do not know. I was wondering if you did.
EA: I don't know either.
GV: "Jan affair?"
EA: I don't know, my dear.
GV: You don't remember. Alright, then. Certain minor problems with permission at Hagia Sophia – that is certain minor problems regarding work at Hagia Sophia arise in the year 1965 as a result of the turbulent political situation in Turkey. And in a letter to Underwood you write that the movement to turn Hagia Sohpia into a mosque revived. What are the things that you remember from this period?
EA: I sincerely do not remember.
GV: Alright. You have mentioned ARIT a couple of times.
EA: Who?
GV: ARIT, American Research Institute in Turkey.
GV: It seems that you were quite involved at the time of its establishment. You were even giving advice to Underwood about where precisely ARIT should be set up.
EA: Underwood did not have much to do with ARIT – not with ARIT.
GV: What was your role there?
EA: The director there – they all would know me, anyway. ARIT had, well, it had two directors. One of them was Heath Lowry, and I knew him. And then there was the current director, Tony Greenwood. And his father was a colleague at Robert College. That's all, not much to it.
GV: But during its establishment, too, you –
EA: No, no.
GV: There is not much. Alright. Do you remember Rustem Duyuran?
EA: Very well indeed!
GV: Could you tell us about him, then, because –
EA: Rustem Duyuran. Rustem Duyuran was the director of the Archaeological Museum. He got his education in Germany. To put it colloquially, he was out of it. He was also interested in, well, drinking. This guy would always start up fights and things like that. Between him and Paul, and because Paul was a little tactless, I would be the go-between. I would intentionally call him "big brother Rustem" so that it would be easier to make up with him after a potential fight – because if you call someone your big brother, then you do make peace with him. But otherwise – Rustem – for example, let me tell you a little something: One day at the – there was this Nezih Firatli who was working at the Archaeological Museum. Nezih Firatli. He was a very good archaeologist, and a good friend. He, too, passed away. He would, you know, help us. And then, well, we were to borrow something, I now forget what it was, from the Archaeological Museum. We needed Mr. Rustem's permission. Now, Mr. Rustem would not be there in the mornings. And so, I told Paul to leave his card on his desk, so that we could later claim to not have found him in his office. And that way we could get the "little permission" from Nezih. Then we went back one afternoon when Mr. Rustem was there. What would Paul do but tell him: "We left that card intentionally in order to be able to say that we didn't find you there." The man's face was like – "Big brother," I said, "don't dwell on it, you understand the situation here." And so we resolved it. Paul had such gaffes to make.
GV: But I think that Rustem Duyuran worked in Anatolia.
EA: He did. He was the director of the Archaeological – of the museum in Izmir. He had some – but he was a strange man. At Sarachane, for example, some, well, some marble pieces with monograms were found. I told Mr. Rustem to get some of those. "They don't concern us," he said. Nezih and me, we would take those to the Archaeological Museum at night in order to, well, salvage them. Anyway, so Mr. Rustem was an odd man like that. On the corner there, in Beyazit, there is a bath-house, under which there are reliefs from the Theodosian period. These reliefs are very precious because there are very few of them that date back to the Theodosian period. I went to Mr. Rustem and told him, "Big brother, just give me two men and I will take care of the money. Let's remove these pieces, and take them to the archaeological museum." "Just leave it!" he said – things like that. And then all of those pieces got broken. I had actually taken pictures of those. There must be photographs of those pieces at Dumbarton Oaks.
GV: What happened to the photographs that you had taken?
EA: I gave them away. I didn't take many pictures.
GV: You were giving them away?
EA: No, I wasn't taking them. Larry Majewski would take them.
GV: Yes.
EA: I'll show you the ones I have, but they are all taken by Larry. I would only do the enlargement. With a friend of mine, we'd enlarge photographs.
GV: So you were taking the films and –
EA: No, no, they – we – these were for me.
GV: For you, but you were enlarging them in a dark room?
EA: Yes.
GV: And this was in the Yildiz Apartment?
EA: No, no, it wasn't there, dear. This was at a friend's house. We were doing this for ourselves, not for them.
GV: So, for yourself. Well, there is also this story about the removal and installment of the bronze doors of Hagia Sofia.
EA: Let me tell you about that. Those doors – they are very old. I mean, they are from the Hellenistic period. Someone named Carlo Bertelli came from Italy for – to clean and restore those doors. And, well, Saban had an older brother, his name was Salih. He was unbelievable. Van Nice used to call him – he would say, "He's a medieval man." He would lift the enormous door by himself. How would he do it, how come? Well, anyway he – those doors were cleaned, and crosses and things were exposed. This was Bertelli's work. Also there happened something tragic. They put some of that bronze on the floor and they got stolen. Whoever stole them was unknown. I mean, I guess, they were handed over to the guy who roasted chickpeas.
GV: I think, their installment was also –
EA: Bertelli took care of that. The door was not completely removed, to begin with. The doors were not removed.
GV: They were not?
EA: No, no, no. There was no way!
GV: Yes, they really are very large. I think, also, that there was this group of Armenian artisans at the covered bazaar – one or two artisans. Did you –
EA: I don't know about them.
GV: You don't know about them. Alright. If I told you names of some people whom we don't know, perhaps you could –
EA: Go ahead.
GV: First is this Tahsin Bey that we have come across. I thought that it may be Tahsin Oz, but –
EA: Ha! No, his name was not Tahsin, though. His last name was Oz. I think he was the director of the Archaeological Museum.
GV: Was he? Do you know anyone by the name of Tahsin?
EA: I don't personally, but I think this may be him.
GV: Boris Ermeloff?
EA: I don't know him. Wait, he was a friend of – the one you mentioned – of Mister Walker's.
GV: Ermoloff?
EA: Ermoloff.
GV: A friend of Walker's.
EA: I mean, he was staying with him.
GV: He was staying at Walker's. Yes, okay.
EA: I think, perhaps, that he was the Polish Ambassador. He was – well, there was this great antiques dealer here by the name of Zakos.
GV: An antiques dealer.
EA: And so, he used to have very large pieces. This antique – this guy goes and buys a coin, a very expensive coin, from him. He shows this coin to Whittemore in the evening. Whittemore tells him that it's a fake and tells him to return it. And so, he takes it back to Zakos. "For the life of me," says Zakos, "this is not a fake!" "No." and so Zakos gives him back his money and half an hour later Whittemore shows up and says: "Where's that coin that Ermeloff brought you? – and "don't sell these things to illiterate persons after this." He pays him and places the coin in his pocket.
GV: Anybody by the name of Richard or Robert Gregory?
EA: I don't know them.
GV: You don't know them. Alexander Piankoff?
EA: Alexander?
GV: Piankoff.
EA: I don't know them.
GV: Nor him. Alright. Jack Loveless?
EA: [No response.]
GV: No. Okay, we come across the names of certain people that we think were workers: Halil, Hayyam.
EA: They were laborers – just masons, you know.
GV: Yes, alright. Then there is a person named Halasi Khun.
EA: Halasi Khun. I know him, but – he is a well-known person – but I can't recall who he was.
GV: Yes. Peppa?
EA: Who?
GV: Peppa.
EA: Peppa was the maid at Paul's apartment. She was a maid.
GV: But she did not work in the Yildiz Apartment, did she?
EA: She worked in the Yildiz Apartment.
GV: So she was there.
EA: She was there. She would stay during the winter, too. She would stay there. She was a kind of a, well, a care-taker. I would take her monthly payment to her. Later on when she quit the job, they got her out of the apartment. There was not much need in the winter in the first place. And Paul Underwood had been sending her – he had been sending a certain amount of money every month until the day he died. And I would take that money to her.
GV: Was Peppa of Greek origin?
EA: Yes, she was Greek. Also half-blind.
GV: Was she? And about Koco – we have already talked about the two Kocos. We have also come across someone called Nashi, or, perhaps, Naashi.
EA: Nashi. Nashi must have been the brother of this Koco.
GV: Of which Koco, though?
EA: Of the one with the middle name. Well, he was the brother of one of them. The one who was Carroll Wales' friend?
GV: Gano, Seth Gano, I think…
EA: I have heard his name, but don't remember him.
GV: You don't know him. There's also this person, Mehmet, who constantly comes up.
EA: Mehmet.
GV: He would carry buckets, apparently.
EA: [No response.]
GV: He must have been an unimportant person, then. There are a couple more names, but – McMurray, for example, is one.
EA: [No response.]
GV: You don't know him either. Yes, alright Is there anything else that you would like to tell? This is it for my questions.
EA: Not really, no. I don't think there is anything left.
GV: Would Mrs. Atabay like to add anything?
Mrs. Atabay: No, no. I was not in that world actually. And yet, I know most of the names that you brought up here, of course. I mean, I know them as friends.
EA: Let me also give you these – book of visitors to Kariye, with signatures. There are two. Take them both.
GV: I would appreciate it.
EA: You take those.
GV: Are there any – are there any photographs of the workers?
GV: Or your photgraphs –
EA: No, no.
GV: – of that sort? No, okay. I will end the recording now but I would like to show you a couple of photographs of people you may recognize.
EA: Do show!
GV: Alright.]]>
Mildred and Robert Woods Bliss were consummate collectors and patrons. After purchasing Dumbarton Oaks in 1920, they significantly redesigned the house and its interiors, built important new structures, added over fifty acres of planned gardens, hosted important musical evenings and intellectual discussions in their Music Room, and acquired a world-class art collection and library. The illustrated essays in this volume reveal how the Blisses' wide-ranging interests in art, music, gardens, architecture, and interior design resulted in the creation of the Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection. Their collections of Byzantine and Pre-Columbian art and rare garden books and drawings are examined by Robert Nelson, Julie Jones, and Therese O'Malley, respectively. James Carder provides the Blisses' biography and discusses their patronage of various architects, including Philip Johnson, and the interior designer Armand Albert Rateau. The Blisses' collaboration with Beatrix Farrand on the creation of the Dumbarton Oaks Gardens is recounted by Robin Karson, and their commission of Igor Stravinsky's Dumbarton Oaks Concerto and its premiere by Nadia Boulanger is examined by Jeanice Brooks. The volume demonstrates that every aspect of the Blisses' collecting and patronage had a place in the creation of what they came to call their "home of the humanities."]]>