A phone call just brought the sad news that Peter C. Marzio, long time head of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, died last night.
Here’s the Houston Chronicle obit, and here’s a previous post of mine on him. I have admired Peter for as long as I have known him; I can’t remember exactly when or where we met, but it was probably in the early ’90s.
More from me shortly.
Deciding what to say here about Peter was not as easy as I thought. Certainly, he was one of the warmest, nicest museum directors I’ve ever known. His accomplishments at MFAH are legend, but best left for a Houstonian, who would know more details, to say.
Here’s a link to the tribute on the museum’s website.
I can offer an anecdote or two that illustrate his enthusiasm and his openness. Unafraid of speaking out, he was often a go-to guy when I wanted an art expert to weigh in on a slightly off-beat topic. For example, when I wrote a piece for The New York Times in 1998, pegged to a list of the “top 100 novels,” wondering if there might be a list of the top art works, most people pooh-poohed the idea.
Not Peter, as I wrote then:
Peter C. Marzio, the director of the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, is one member of the establishment who is not horrified by the whole subject. He even suggested two lists, one drawn up by experts and one voted on by the people.
”I’d like to know what the general public thinks are the greatest works of art,” Mr. Marzio said. ”It would probably be Monet, Monet and Monet at the top. The one work that might make it on both lists is the ‘Mona Lisa,’ and maybe the bust of Nefertiti.”
Another time, I remember receiving a small catalogue, displaying the work of an upstate New York realist artist, whose work was clearly out of fashion. The artist had no gallery representation in New York (or any other art center), and little chance of getting any. With the catalogue came with a note from Peter, praising the work and asking if I could help out by writing about the artist and his work. He really cared.
Peter was a fine writer as well; he could describe art beautifully and articulate why it moved him.
I saw Peter three times this year, and was set to go to Houston in early January for a longer conversation — for an article about his views on museums today. I’m sad that I won’t get the opportunity to see him again. The museum world — no, the whole world — will miss him.