Glimcher drove up the astronomical sum on scruples alone––he could not bear to see what he saw as an archetypally American painting go to Germany, as it would have, had not he rallied four patrons to contribute a quarter each of the price to keep it in the States.

John’s comment, as Glimcher remembered it, was to say dryly, “A million dollars is not an insignificant sum…But you know that this has nothing to do with art.”

A large part of what made the gallery successful was Glimcher’s attitude that the it had to be as close as possible to the artist himself. “That’s what it’s about,” he exclaimed, leaving his notes for an impassioned aside. “What it’s about is being in the studio, seeing the work made, knowing what the inspiration is. We get to live a show—our lives are taken over by the show.”

Glimcher gains bountiful satisfaction from the fact that, unlike a museum director, he can actually help bring an artist’s vision to life. As his wife said, “Arne’s a genius at installation.”

He has unending drive when it comes to fulfilling an artist’s vision. When working with the artist Lucas Samaras, for example, he not only put up the sum of $14,000 so that Samaras could create a mirrored room, but also went around personally redecorating his gallery with nails and hammer in hand until he had created the desired effect.

For the great sculptor Isamu Noguchi, Glimcher devised a method of covering his stone sculptures with a fine layer of water, “so that it looked just like glass,” as he recalled wistfully.

“We rebuild the gallery for every exhibition,” Glimcher said. “The artists really appreciate it,” he continued wryly. It was clear that the construction involved was part of what he loved most, however, when he added with a smile, “and it’s a lot of fun for us.”

Though Glimcher certainly sees himself as more privileged in many ways than the head of a museum, he is the first to admit that there is something in the latter job that he finds immensely appealing. “I guess I’m somewhere between an art dealer and a frustrated museum director,” he told The Crimson after the talk.

Glimcher’s close relationship to the great talents gave him a distinct advantage in knowing how to organize art exhibitions. Not surprisingly, he was unafraid to indulge those insights, and the line between curatorial shows and commercial ones could be very fine.

Though Rothko is traditionally regarded as the inheritor of Matisse’s mantle for his use of color, Glimcher compared him instead to Pierre Bonnard. He said the idea came when he remembered a conversation about color he had with Rothko: “He said, ‘Sure, Matisse is great, but if you are really interested in color, you should look to Bonnard,’” Glimcher said.

The “duet” show that Glimcher put on as a result of the insight met with popular success. “We had to keep the gallery open late because the line to see the show went all the way down the block,” he said.

Glimcher’s historical exhibits are successful ventures, which often receive loans from the major museums. “It’s a great way to see the exhibitions that I want to see but that museum’s aren’t showing,” Glimcher said, “but it’s also my way to give back to the community.” In fact, the majority of his sales are to major museums.

Above all, Glimcher sees Pace as a product of its age. It has championed such contemporary artists as Chuck Close, Julian Schnabel and Claes Oldenburg, but has no intention of championing-up-and coming artists today. “Our youngest artist is Kiki Smith––and she’s 40,” he says. “It would probably only be detrimental for a young artist to show with us, as dwarfed between the giants as they would be. We’ve grown up with these people––it’s a grown up gallery!”

Glimcher has always allowed his instinct for the art that he knows and loves to have free reign. He has no ambitions beyond following this passion. “Art is my obsession,” he said after the lecture. “Of course I had no idea I would rise this high. You just put one foot ahead of the other.”

extremely important to the future of the gallery. When it moved to New York in 1963, Nevelson joined with Pace, influencing other prominent artists to join as well.