WORDS OF WISDOM IN MONACO WITH DAVID NAHMAD

By Nicole Laffont

David Nahmad’s art collection turns heads and is coveted by all the art market connoisseurs. Hard to make an inventory. The greats, Monet, Matisse, Renoir, Léger, Rothko, Bacon, Kandinsky, Mondrian, Modigliani, de Chirico, Fontana, Miró, Calder ... are all rubbing shoulders with the largest private Picasso collection in the world.

David Nahmad is rich, extremely rich, in every way. His culture, insight, his sensitivity and intuition are just as good a match to his amazing fortune estimated to be some $1.8 billion.

The path of this simple and generous Monaco resident is fascinating enough for a filmmaker. Living a life full of plenty of romance, anecdotes and strokes of brilliance, he remains humble and discreet as can be. Originally from the Syrian city of Aleppo, born into a family of bankers, he emigrated to Lebanon and later Milan. David Nahmad was destined for a distinguished scientific career. But his trajectory deviated from mathematics to painting. Leaving equations behind, the man ventured into the much more rugged world of art. David still claims loud and clear, however, that a scientific approach known to him alone is the only way to unearth a genius. His name is familiar to anyone having visited the superb exhibition at the Grimaldi Forum commemorating the 40th anniversary of Picasso’s death in 2013.

Ten years later we realize just how lucky we are to be meeting David Nahmad on the 50th anniversary of the death of the master of cubism. We are thus able to treat our readers to this man’s anthology of life and art… the art which, according to him, belongs to no one in particular, but to all humankind. That is why David Nahmad happily lends his collection to museums around the world.

Hello Monaco: Your family in Aleppo had to leave Syria in 1947. Do you still feel like a refugee?

David Nahmad: We have never been refugees... My parents were bankers in both Syria and Lebanon but it was getting difficult for the Jews in Aleppo... So they left Syria losing all their assets. I was born in Beirut in 1947.

My family did not believe in art at all. One day a Gauguin was stolen from us, thankfully found six months later. That’s when my father said, “The day we were robbed is the day we bought it!”. We paid $10,000 for it. Can you imagine! A mere nothing...

: So how did you get into the art world?

DN: My brother, Joe, who was fifteen years older than me, went to Milan first.

Endowed with a very curious spirit, he had a love for everything that was out of the ordinary. At the time, after the war, art was considered superfluous. I suppose people had more urgent needs like buying a house or a car... But little by little the auctions and exhibitions came up, and many galleries opened their doors in Italy. Pop Art was selling there better than in the States!

In 1951, Joe acquired some forty decorative paintings which he sent to my mother in Lebanon. For her it was a big event. Having decorated the house, she had the whole Jewish community parade to see those paintings. Back in the day people mostly only had carpets on the wall! Before leaving Lebanon, my mother took photos of the house decorated with them, so proud she was. In 1960 we all left for Italy.

: Did the collection start off with these forty paintings?

DN: My brother had paid $4,000 for those paintings. A few years later I was making fun of him saying, “With that money you could have acquired 40 Fernand Légers!”. In 1951 a Léger was not worth more than a hundred euros! But he was still a visionary, having paid only $500 for his first Magritte for example... He started who introduced me to this world. He was rubbing shoulders with the artists... I remember us buying Bacons, Magrittes. But to be honest I was a bit bored at the start. Little did I know that the art market would take off so much. collecting contemporary Italian artists like Fontana, Pomodoro, de Chirico. When I arrived in Milan in the sixties with my parents, I followed him everywhere, from gallery to gallery. He took me to Milan, Rome, London, Paris... It was my brother

: Do you feel that your fabulous collection is actually a family affair?

DN: Absolutely! I started alongside my brother Ezra, whose two sons Hillel and Joe currently run the London galleries while my two sons also named Hillel and Joe, watch over the New York branches. The collection is also that of Ezra and David Nahmad.

: Do you remember your first purchase?

DN: It was a painting that I actually never bought! A Bernard Buffet awarded to me. There was a number of bidders at that auction. I was at the very back of the room and never lifted a finger. However, it was eventually given to me. Just surreal...

: Among all the masterpieces in your collection, is there one that is particularly close to your heart?

DN: Every one of my works has a story. And it is this story that makes its price. I don’t care about the prestige! One of the most beautiful memories is a meeting with the art dealer Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler. He had an early version of Picasso’s Manet-inspired “Lunch on the Grass” above his desk. Kahnweiler told me straight away that it was not for sale during his lifetime. Seven or eight years after his death, his gallery called me to know if I was still interested. I said yes without even asking the price: “Your price will be mine”. Before hanging up I added: “Even if you had asked me double I would have paid it!”. There was a lot of honesty back then. I paid a fair price. Well, for emotional reasons I will not sell this painting for anything in the world!

: What do you think makes the price of a work of art?

D N: Art is priceless! It’s like Victor Hugo or Mozart. This is part of our culture! In a hundred or a thousand years we will still be talking about Monet, Cézanne, Van Gogh and certainly Picasso. Picasso is the 20th century! Few artists remain in posterity... For me, a painting, to be valuable, must be historical. Initially, when I was buying Picasso, it was unsaleable. I fell in love with the art world for scientific reasons. When I buy a painting I am touched by its authenticity. It is not a question of finding it beautiful but rather meaningful. An artist may certainly be inspired by someone else but would never copy!

: Your choice is thus guided by a scientific approach...

DN: Absolutely so. The Italian Futurist art, for example, is born with an advent of speed. And Fontana’s style (who sadly died in 1968 without knowing how big he went) may be compared to the conquest of space. Thanks to my brother who received him at his property in Milan I knew him well. So many artists came to that house!

Yves Klein also conveyed a new vision of space. Art is not made to be loved, you know? It is not about being pleasant to the eye. Fernand Léger once said: “Pretty is the enemy of beautiful”...

: What is the scientific approach about when it comes to art?

DN: I originally studied engineering. When I first started visiting galleries and artists, little by little, I realized that art is nothing but science. It’s intellectual, it’s spiritual. For me a painting has to be a historical document. If “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” by Picasso had not been painted in 1907 but in 1967, they would have no value at all. Art is not emotional, but mental. The beauty of something comes from intellect and sensitivity. In the Jewish religion, when a boy makes his bar mitzvah and becomes a man, the phylacteries are placed on his head and on his heart...

: Do you have any particularly vivid memories?

DN: The Maeght Foundation in SaintPaul is an important stage in my life. Aimé Maeght had spread European art all around the world. He made a gesture for me once that I would never forget. I had difficulties back in the day. He sold me a Chagall and asked me to pay the price only once I resold it. It was done an hour later. A French dealer had given me twice as much! In fact, Aimé Maeght made me a gift and sold it on purpose at half price. He wanted to help me out... He was a very generous man.

: What do you have on your walls? Surely you don’t keep all your masterpieces in storage...

DN: We have galleries in London, New York... At home there is not much. A Léger, a Picasso, a Nicolas de Staël... You know, art doesn’t belong to anyone. It must circulate. I have lent works to 450 museums around the world. Currently we have Matisses at the Nice Museum after having been in Orangerie in Paris (I am the patron of the Matisse Museum in Nice), Basquiats at the Vuitton Foundation, Picassos at the MOMA in New York. This summer we will be lending Monets to the Grimaldi Forum. Certain collectors refuse to lend. Their vice is arrogance and stupidity.

It is amazing, however, that the Vuitton Foundation has spent enormous sums to bring in the Russian collections. These paintings purchased in France could not be admired by the French since they were kept in Saint-Petersburg...

: There are more and more collectors out there. Is it more of a question of greed or is it an emotional thing?

DN: I think that few of them actually understand art and buy it scientifically, few follow a trend... And then, nowadays, art has actually become a necessity. The world has evolved. Few people used to go to college, whereas today...

: What do you think of contemporary art?

DN: I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, I’m not a pretentious person. If I start talking badly about one or the other, I feel like I’m putting myself down. And I love humility. I particularly appreciate Prince Albert of Monaco for being humble.

: Do you keep on buying works of art?

DN: I’ve just bought a Bacon triptych, the portrait of his last lover that belonged to the architect Norman Foster who designed the Yacht Club of Monaco. I’ve also acquired an exceptional, very large Miró. You know, he was a painter who particularly influenced contemporary art and he too was very humble. When Miró was exhibiting in the United States in the thirties, thanks to the art dealer Pierre Matisse, many artists came to see him. They were so impressed with his innovative style that every summer they followed him in Spain to learn from this painting giant. But after the end of the Second World War, it was Miró who went to the United States and wanted to learn from his students. In a way, he became the pupil of his pupils. It’s a very beautiful story. His style thus really evolved under the influence of certain artists, like Pollock...

Then, in the 1950s, a Dadaist poet Tristan Tzara introduced Miró to the Maeght gallery which immediately bought his works. The Catalan artist then created the legendary labyrinth for the Saint-Paul Foundation.

Miró was the first to use burns, tar... In 2005 we brought together all the “masonites” which expressed the horrors of war. When I did this exhibition at the Basel fair, Calder’s and Miró’s grandsons came to see it and were very moved. But many contemporary artists were not very happy since you could see where their inspiration came from...

: Are you still an art dealer?

DN: No! It’s stupid to be a dealer! The fact that I had a lot of enemies actually helped me. There have been some incredible stories. I once bought the same painting twice and paid a thousand times more for it second time around. А Cy Twombly. In 1974, I paid $39,000 for it at Sotheby’s in London. Thirty years later, in 2021, I was paying $39 million… for the very same painting. Not a similar one, the one! Same for the

Picassos. I paid 200 times more for some of those paintings than the actual price I had initially sold them for. When it has an emotional value you don’t look at the price.

: What is most important to you in life?

DN: I do believe in good deeds. And it is very important to have sensitivity. You know, it is not record sales that make a painting interesting. Being rich does not make one intelligent! There are stupid people who are billionaires. Others, on the other hand, are very cultured and passionate. If you don’t learn something every day, it’s a wasted day. I believe I’m a philosopher in life.

: What of tomorrow? What may we expect of the art world?

: But how is that possible?

DN: It’s not the same money anymore! It’s not the paintings that have gone up in value. It is the money that has devalued considerably.

DN: I am someone rather inflexible. I do not accept compromises, especially when it comes to the world of art. Let me tell you, the only real big leap since the end of the war was the conquest of space. And the only two real witnesses to it were Fontana and Yves Klein. They don’t come from anyone, they don’t copy anyone. And since then... nothing else.