Brancusi: The Artist and His Studio

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Constantin Brancusi. *Brancusi, Berenice Abbott, Mina Loy, Jane Heap, and Margaret Anderson in the studio*. c. 1921–22. Gelatin silver print, 3.5 x 5.5" (9 x 14 cm). Centre Pompidou, Paris, Musée national d’art moderne-Centre de création industrielle, Constantin Brancusi Bequest, 1957. PH 927 C. Digital Image © CNAC/MNAM, Dist. RMN-Grand Palais / Art Resource, NY. © Succession Brancusi – All rights reserved (Adagp) 2026

Margaret Anderson on: A party at chez Brancusi 634

Constantin Brancusi. Brancusi, Berenice Abbott, Mina Loy, Jane Heap, and Margaret Anderson in the studio. c. 1921–22. Gelatin silver print, 3.5 x 5.5" (9 x 14 cm). Centre Pompidou, Paris, Musée national d’art moderne-Centre de création industrielle, Constantin Brancusi Bequest, 1957. PH 927 C. Digital Image © CNAC/MNAM, Dist. RMN-Grand Palais / Art Resource, NY. © Succession Brancusi – All rights reserved (Adagp) 2026

Narrator 1: American writer and publisher Margaret C. Anderson first visited Brancusi's studio in 1921. Years later, she reflected on the experience in her autobiography, My Thirty Years' War. Here are some excerpts from her book:

Narrator 2: Constantin Brancusi lives in a stone studio in the Impasse Ronsin. His hair and beard are white, his long work shirt is white, his stone benches and large round table are white, the sculptor’s dust that covers everything is white, his Bird in white marble stands on a high pedestal against the windows, a large white magnolia can always be seen on the white table.

A party at chez Brancusi is not to be missed. He begins his preparations in the morning. Lighting a freshly rolled cigarette, he strolls out into the [town] and does his marketing. By the time the cigarette is finished, he has acquired a chicken, potatoes, and a salad. He strolls back to the studio and sculpts until dinner time.

When his guests arrive, he lays out plates, silver, white paper napkins, wine and champagne glasses on the stone table. While he laughs and talks with you, he makes chicken soup on the clay stove he built himself. When you have finished the soup, he grills the chicken over the coals. He fills your glasses constantly, tells stories constantly.

[...] By one in the morning, he decides that the night will be lost unless the party will spend it with him in the streets of Paris. Brancusi leads the way through the streets. He stops at cafés where there is music, talks with everyone, drinks with everyone, dances in the middle of the floor. He is not in the least drunk. He is happy.

Narrator 1: This audio was generated with automated voices.

Excerpted from: Margaret Anderson, My Thirty Years’ War: An Autobiography (Stratford Press, 1930), 251–55.