Collector John Kaldor: ‘My motto is to bring to Australia the latest trends in art’
When the Art Gallery of New South Wales opened its new building for contemporary and indigenous works in November, some of the most significant exhibits came from one source: textile magnate, philanthropist and collector John Kaldor, who donated 190 works, or 90 percent of his collection, to the Year 2008 by the likes of Frank Stella, Ugo Rondinone, Sol LeWitt, Robert Rauschenberg and Bill Viola. “I only kept the works that artists gave me,” he says.
Kaldor, now in his mid-eighties, is a generous supporter of the arts and one of Australia’s most forward-thinking collectors. As early as 1969 he founded a series of art projects that brought names such as Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Jeff Koons, Marina Abramović and Tino Sehgal to the country: “My motto is to bring the latest contemporary art trends to Australia.”
We meet at his home outside of Sydney; From the outside it looks dark and Victorian, but inside there is an entire room covered in a colorful mural by LeWitt, while the entrance features a mirror installation by Rondinone. A ceramic Koons puppy is tucked away in a corner, while the work that started it all, Roy Lichtenstein’s Peanut Butter Cup (1962), hangs in one corner. He bought it in 1963 for just $50 from Galerie Sonnabend in Paris.
“I’ve always collected something: as a child in Hungary it was stamps and as an adult I first bought Australian art,” he says. “But the real revelation came in the early 1960s when I went to New York and discovered pop art. It was such an eye opener after growing up in Sydney.
“Today pop art is part of art history, but back then it was a complete departure from what came before. . . And at that time such works were financially accessible for someone on a salary like me – they were even cheaper than Australian art!”
Kaldor looks a bit like a favorite uncle, heavily bearded and with a soft smile. Thoughtful, soft-spoken, and quite inscrutable, he bears traces of Hungarian inflection; an Australian accent breaks through from time to time. His family eventually came to Sydney after fleeing his native Hungary for Western Europe in 1948 with the goal of “getting as far away from Europe and communism as possible. We went over the limit with just what we could carry,” he says.
As an adult he began working for a textile company and in 1966 encouraged it to set up an annual sculptor’s bursary. “Originally the grant was for Australian artists to study abroad, but after the first few grants I realized I wanted to do something that would make Australians aware of what was going on elsewhere. So I asked if I could do an international artist and the company said yes.”
After seeing an illustration of a work by Christo – who wrapped large objects and buildings with his wife Jeanne-Claude – Kaldor met the artist in New York and they hit it off. Christo wanted to pack a stretch of coast after failing in California – so Kaldor decided to try and find one for him in Australia.
He appealed to the government, army and navy – “They just laughed and kicked me out” – but eventually Prince Henry Hospital in Little Bay accepted as long as a small entrance fee was paid. “You can’t do something like that today, we didn’t have planning permission, we didn’t have safety equipment, but the gods of art smiled at us and nobody got hurt.” A massive storm nearly wiped out the project just before it opened, but they pushed on and it was eventually a great success. Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Wrapped Coast, One Million Square Feet (1968-69) was the largest work ever created at the time: a mile and a half of coastline wrapped in cloth and rope.
His ‘very old-fashioned’ employer was less than convinced and stopped the sponsorship, leaving him to set out on his own: ‘I thought if I could pack a coast I could run my own business. And I had so much fun with Christo that I wanted to continue [the projects].” In 1970 he founded his own textile company, which prospered and eventually grew into a multi-million dollar corporation. He also continued the big projects, eventually through his own foundation, and created 37 so far. “The foundation was a small organization and gave me more flexibility.”
Charlotte Moorman performing Sky Kiss (1968) above the Sydney Opera House in 1976
The second project was with the curator Harald Szeemann, who staged an exhibition with 22 young artists; then followed Gilbert & George, performing for five hours each day at the Art Gallery of New South Wales (AGNSW) and the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne. “They partied and drank that night, but the next morning they were as sober and professional as one could ask for,” says Kaldor, who visits when he’s in London.
Over the years, Kaldor brought many more artists to Australia, some of them quite challenging: for example, Charlotte Moorman performed practically naked in 1976, playing an ice cello until it melted. The most recent project dates from 2022: “Wall Drawing #955, Loopy Doopy (Red and Purple)” by LeWitt, on display in Kaldor Hall at the entrance to AGNSW.
I ask if, instead of donating most of his collection to AGNSW, he would have ever thought of opening his own museum. “No – you have to be very wealthy and I wasn’t able to do that. I was more interested in the temporary projects where I had more flexibility, for example in a church like the Bill Viola project [two huge video installations]: There are so many more limitations to having a permanent website.”
Only a small number of works from his donation can be on view at one time – 14 during my visit. I ask him if that worries him. He sighs. “That’s why some people who can afford it have their own museums. But that’s the nature of giving, you have to accept that only a portion is on display.
“What pleases me the most is that my projects are set in Australian art history. For example, the coiled coast is now taught in the school report card. I am so proud that the projects are part of this country’s cultural memory.”
kaldorartprojects.org.au