Hugo and I went to lunch with Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney at her studio.
I sat next to Mr. Bob Chanler, whom I hadn’t met before. He has the
head of a great French savant, and a voice like the roar of a bull. He
was once married to Cavalieri! On my other side, Mr. Childe Hassam,
the painter; opposite Mr. ---- and Jo Davidson. There were lots of
people I didn’t know, and among them I met a Sheridan cousin called
Pittman. Good looking and nice, I was glad to claim him. Paul Manship
came in afterwards, he and I and Davidson and Bob Chanler, unable to
bear the noise or the absence of air, at the end of lunch went upstairs
to the studio and danced to the gramaphone. Mr. Chanler, rather mad,
and attractive accordingly, kissed me in a moment of expansion! That is
very American. They may kiss in public,----!
After lunch Ruth Draper did some imitations. It is pure genius.
It was difficult to drag oneself away from such an attractive party.
I like Mrs. Whitney and her breakaway from the conventions. She seems
to achieve the real Bohemian spirit. I remember John Noble telling me
about her years ago--she is the fairy godmother of struggling artists.
Jo Davidson and Paul Manship came down to my exhibition in Hugo’s car.
It was nice of them to come, sculptors are not as nice to each other in
England as those here have been to me. There seems to be a different
spirit here. I had a hectic time, wanting to talk to all my friends who
turned up.
I came home in time to dress and Jo Davidson called for me and took
me to the Manhattan Opera House. We had not time to dine. It was the
first time I had been to the opera since Moscow. The house was a full
one and very enthusiastic. The stalls seemed to consist mostly of alien
music-lovers, and for the most part not evening dressed. It was very
democratic and harmonious. I liked it.
Afterwards, Hugo fetched us and we went to Guardiabassé’s flat for
supper. He made the macaroni himself and I helped him. He sings and he
paints, and he seems to be a useful person to have about the house!
We were a noisy crew, and there were repeated requests from below that
we should make less noise! Which seemed to me curious for a studio
flat. An American party is always noisy. I can’t make out why one
should be unable to hear oneself speak. I think it is that they talk
in a key higher than we do. They have a great sense of camaraderie,
and when they get together to have a “good time” it is bewildering. I
wonder what they think of us? I should think they find us deadly.