The Saint Laurent-Bergé Collection: A legacy of taste

(Second of two parts)

THE KUNSTKAMMER

With the Saint Laurent Bergé acquisitions, a Kunstkammer or art cabinet was eventually created, a visual feast of sculptures and objet d’ art, which filled the space around them. There was an astonishing variety of media — marble, bronze, wood, terracotta, as well as enamel, ivory, mounted glass, and carved hardstones, among others. Laid on tables and shelves, there was a delightful tension between various textures and periods: A gilt bronze horse of the 17th century reared up on its hind legs beside a carved ivory head of Christ from the Spanish colonies of the Far East. Sixteenth-century French enamels lorded over delicate ivory table decorations carved in Germany in the 17th century. 

The sumptuousness of it all — the layering of object upon object — was striking, bringing to mind collections formed in the royal courts of Europe during the Renaissance and Baroque periods. Wealthy members of these courts in modern day Austria and Germany feverishly collected and commissioned artists to produce masterpieces in exotic materials for their Kunstkammer, with the purpose of achieving fürstliche Reputation und Zier (princely reputation and decoration) as well as the intellectual understanding of the natural world.

By carving and the observation of natural elements such as cameos, ivories, hardstones, corals, and minerals, collectors felt as if nature and the universe itself could be categorized, shaped, and contained by man. The art of creating and displaying these items represented the zenith of man’s handling of nature, since the physical properties of these highly prized materials dictated that only the most superior craftsmen could work on them. Naturally, only the top patrons could acquire such works of art and use them as symbols of power, wealth, and intellect.

Few of these Kunstkammern are in existence today, making the Bergé and Saint Laurent assemblage of carved ivory vessels, rock- crystal cups, mounted cameos, and many other treasures a rare collection indeed.

THE HEIGHT OF YSL

With the 1977 launch of YSL’s Opium, which became the world’s best-selling perfume, Saint Laurent and Bérge suddenly had millions at their disposable to buy almost anything they wanted so collecting reached quite a feverish pace. One time, days before a runway presentation, Yves appeared at the Kugel gallery looking desperate. “He was in terrible shape. He could hardly speak,” the dealer Nicolas Kugel relates. “ Yves said, ‘I’m so stressed! I’m out of ideas. I need to see beautiful things!’ And he left with two gold boxes in his pocket. He absolutely needed them as a fix.” 

The purchases as a couple were more thoughtfully considered, however, even if a bit unconventional. One of their first major acquisitions took many people by surprise, including the dealer Alain Tarica who concluded the sale. He relates how, when the two entered his gallery, “they already knew art history, art critics, museums.” They bought for about $500,000, Madame L.R., a totem-like 1914 to 1917 effigy sculpture of the Parisian hostess Léonie Ricou, by Constantin Brancusi. It was one of at most three wooden Brancusis in private hands. Most people would not have recognized what it was, and for such a large amount at that time, would have bought more popular pieces. But the couple found it compelling, not to mention that it had an impressive provenance: It was owned by Fernand Leger’s widow, Nadia, a Russian who had been his student. It entered the Leger collection in 1918 when the painter swapped one of his canvases for it during that year he met Brancusi.

COLLECTING EUPHORIA

From the ‘80s to early ‘90s, Tarica and the intrepid connoisseurs binged on art history, having the same stringent criteria — a work had to be part of a crucial stage in an artist’s development; it had to be in perfect condition with no restorations, cleaning or re-lining; and it had to possess an exceptional, documented provenance. The couple always had the first priority because “they decided in five minutes and never questioned the price of anything,” relates Tarica. Some of the pieces from the dealer include Ingres’ early Portrait of the Countess de Larue, inscribed “Year XII” (The French Revolutionary-calendar date for circa 1804); a haunting 1816 to 1817 Gericault double portrait of the siblings Élisabeth and Alfred Dedreux, and one of Matisse’s first colored paper cut-outs which the couple nonchalantly nailed to the door of a bed chamber.

The collecting euphoria actually inspired Saint Laurent’s fashion collections like his series of embroidered, beaded, and appliquéd gowns paying homage to Matisse, Picasso, and Léger. His famous Mondrian dresses hyped the Dutch painter in France when they came out. “You couldn’t see Mondrians in France then. They were all in New York,” Tarica said. But the dealer managed to secure four pieces for the duo, including Composition No. 1, which belonged to Helene Kröller-Müller, founder of the eponymous museum in Holland. But the piece never made it to the institution as she had given the masterpiece to her interior decorator in lieu of a professional fee.

THE RECLUSIVE YEARS

The couple’s friend Madison Cox remembers how “Choosing paintings was one of the strongest dialogues between the two… the discussion, the chase, the passion. In spite of lovers’ quarrels, indiscretions, and eventually separation (In 1992 Bergé took an apartment in Rue Bonaparte) they remained united through the collection. In fact, when Yves become reclusive in the latter years, Pierre would bring him pieces for consideration. “In the end, it all comes down to the need you have for each other. Yves and I never split up. We lived separately but never split up,” Pierre stressed despite reports to the contrary. The obsessive collecting continued, maybe reflecting a void that had to be filled. “Designing made him miserable. Sadly, Yves was not built for joy. He was an unhappy person who didn’t have a taste for life. Occasionally, he was happy but life was difficult for him. The depression ran deep.” Even travel could no longer provide respite, according to decorator friend Jacques Grange: “Yves preferred to travel in his imagination. Real places disappointed him. Without leaving his apartment he could voyage to the Mont Saint-Victoire of Cézanne or to the Spain of Goya.”

The harmony he created at home with the beautiful works of art appeased him tremendously. Like Proust, the author he so admired, Saint Laurent retreated to the safe haven of his bedroom, lost in reveries inspired by the objects, which stirred memories of past times. At this point, acquisitions shifted to decorative objects, which filled tables and shelves since there was no more hanging space — some works like a Degas pastel were already hanging in the lavatory. Each piece was placed in relation to others, with many dialogues going on and stories being woven, making each object even more desirable. 

THE COLLECTION GOES TO AUCTION

It seemed such a shame to sell the collection, or at least a very difficult decision to make. “Not at all,” claims Pierre. “The second I knew that Yves was ill (with brain cancer), I knew I would sell everything. I think that the day after the sale I will feel liberated.”

The only pieces he decided to keep were Warhol’s 1972 portrait of Yves and the silk-screened tributes to their pet bulldog Moujik, a 1961 rendering of the YSL logo by Cassandre, and the West African bird sculpture, the first piece they bought together as a couple. The rest, around 800 lots in all, he turned over to Christie’s for auction.

One may ask, why did he not donate the collection to a museum? The answer is simple: These pieces had a life with them in their home and he wanted other collectors to experience the same joy that he and Yves had: “A collection is like having children, they have to grow up and lead their own lives. The collection belonged to Yves and me and because Yves has passed away the collection has no sense for me anymore.” The significance of the collection for him was having had the unique opportunity to have acquired these objects and now it was time, in Zen-like fashion, to relinquish them. “I can live very well without a collection. Yves Saint Laurent and I began in life 50 years ago with bare walls, without furniture and these paintings, and believe me, we were very happy.”

At this stage of Bergé’s life, there were obviously more pressing concerns that outweighed the importance of his continuing stewardship of the collection. He had already earned enough renown as the builder of a fashion empire, as art patron, a philanthropist and a man of fine taste. But taste for him is more than just aesthetics, it is also ethics and cultivation of character and a concern for the greater good. That’s why instead of keeping the collection he chose to sell it and use the proceeds to create a foundation for the scientific research and fight against AIDS. With this act, he did not just manifest the supreme qualities of taste but gave the Saint Laurent-Bergé collection the seal of immortality which will be stamped in the collective consciousness for all time.