Anything that I would say about Florine I would
say about her painting.

Florine was ageless -- never anything but young --
Those of us who knew her would never have presumed to
ask how old she might be -- We might all grow older --
more lined and worn with the years -- but not Florine
--- She was always young -- If she was ever ailing we
might hear about it but we never saw it -- When we saw her
she was always charming and fresh -- dressed surprisingly
so that she and her paintings were always the same sort of
thing -- bright and clear -- She had all the charm of an
old fashioned valentine but she also had the smartness and
brightness, the newness of today.

She was gentle, understanding, sympathetic and
kind but she was also extremely acid and sarcastic --

- 2 -

essentially a polite person -- dainty, fragile, feminine
I believe she had read Proust from cover to cover.

Her home -- her studio were a fantastic combination
of fine spacious white walls -- one very high wide wall all
window opening out on the fountain side back of the City
Public Library. I always think of her with a brilliant
light -- Her furnishings a combination of cherry red velvet,
white celophane -- gold and fine glass beads

Her paintings of her family, her city and her friends
hung on the big white walls. She could look out on them
from behind the three small lace curtained windows of the
balcony at the back of the studio -- back of the lace
curtained balcony were her sleeping quarters, spacious,
feminine and delicate -- finely carved and gilded and gold
and fine soft silk, fringed cherry red velvet -- Nothing
was really elegant enough for Florine -- She was a sort of
fairy princess

- 4 -

Saints in Four Acts she made one of the most attractive things we have had in Theatre. I cannot imagine it with any other settings -- It was a perfect picture of Florine-- like her home, her paintings-- and everything we knew about her -- Fantasy and reality all mixed up.

It always seemed fine to think that Florine could live and work serenely without having to market the thing she did -- I wish now that she is gone that her place with her work could be kept intact as she had it --

a perfect picture of one way of life and one way of working that as the times seem to be pointing -- nan not happen again

Florine was special --

Her feeling was large and wide and free but it was also delicate and minute and her work showed hard work --

long hard work.

All of us that knew her will miss her and there are many of us --

There were three sisters - Ettie, Florine, and Carrie.
They were all very different but they were also very much more
like one another than they were like the rest of us.

There was more red velvet embroidery and fine brocades,
satin, gold fringe and such things than I find in the houses of
most painters. Ettie one said to me sharply - "You know we have
been consumers as well as producers" and that settled that.

In the summer of 1944 two of them died - Florine and Carrie.
They left us suddenly - I could not believe they were gone. There
had always been a gentle youthful brightness there that I
could not believe could change.

I wish to speak about Florine and in a way as I speak of
Florine I feel that I am speaking of all of them. They were close
as sisters, one seldom saw one alone without another. I speak of
Florine because she was a painter. She put into visible form
in her own way something that they all were, a way of life that
is going and cannot happen again, something that has been alive
in our city.

A family - the dignified whitehaired mother - three daugh-
ters, (a married one whom they did not count), their governess,
their friends, our city and its doings, amusements, books, plays
pictures, its dress, general gossip and conversation.

Anything I would say about Florine I would say about her
painting.

Florine was ageless - never anything but young. Those of us
who knew her would never have presumed to ask how old she might

-2-

be. We might all grow older - more lined and worn with the years,
but not Florine. She was always young and fragile. If she was
ever ailing we might hear about it but we never saw it. When we
saw her she was always charming and fresh, dressed surprisingly
so that she and her paintings were always the same sort of thing
- bright and clear - She had all the charm of an old fashioned
valentine, the smartness and brightness, the newness of today.

She was gentle, understanding, sympathetic and kind but she was
also extremely acid and sarcastic - she had definite opinions and
reasons for her opinions.

She was essentially a polite person - dainty, fragile,
feminine.

I believe she read Proust from cover to cover with the aid of
a reading glass. Her home, her studio were bright and airy. Fine
spacious white walls - one very high wide window to the north
opening out on the fountain back of the city Public Library. I
always think of her with a brilliant light. Her furnishings a
combination of white celophane, cherry red velvet, heavy gold
freeze and fine glass beads.

Her paintings of her family, her city and her friends hung
on the wide high white walls. She could look out on them from
behind the three small lace curtained windows of the balcony at
the back of the studio - back of the lace curtained balcony
were her sleeping quarters, spacious, feminine and delicate.

Much of the furniture she had designed herself. It was carved
and gilded and some of it painted white. The soft silk cherry
red velvet on the bed and chair cushion at her dressing table

-3-

always looked as if they had never been touched tho she said
they were in constant use. Nothing was really elegant enough
for Florine. She was a sort of Fairy Princess.

She was always leisurely but she must have worked and worked
hard when none of us saw her. The many large, bright colored
canvases stand there to tell us that the gentle bright eyed
leisurely little person we saw must have been very busy much of
the time when we were not around.

The canvases were large and often heavily painted. She
portrayed definite characteristics that we all recognized in
people and places - always with a particularly charming kind of
unreality.

As she portrayed our city she chose only its most glamorous
bright and superficial aspects. There was no grime or dirt in
her city. Or if it was there she did not choose to paint that
aspect of the city. She left that to others who will most certainly
attend to it. She painted what she recognized as pleasant and
amusing in her world. Her mother - very charming and lovely in
black. Her governess - stern and correct in brown. Portraits of
Carrie and Ettie all aglitter. Her family as a birthday in
the country group. Each one wilting with the summer heat in
her own particular way. There was a summer beach, and Venus
brown on a Sea shell, the scramble of a sale at Bendals, Jimmie
Walker as our mayor and our glory, the Palaces of Art, portraits
of Hergesheimer, Van Vechten, Duchamp, McBride, Stieglitz and
many others. Always people or things of interest about the town
at the moment. Then one afternoon or evening there would be a
party and we would be shown a new painting.

-4-

And the parties - oh yes there were the parties - large teas, small teas and good tea, dainty sandwiches and rich cakes. And no one ever came who was more amusingly costumed than Florine. Sometimes there would be only two or three for dinner, sometimes - behind the lace and gold curtains - there would be many.

Many of us who gathered there for many years became friends. All of us admiring and considering Florine in a very special way - respecting her in a very special way because what we all felt about her demanded real respect even when her fantasy amused and seemed impossible we respect it. Kindly remember that when I speak of Florine I am speaking of all of them. Of the three sisters.

I remember one large dinner party at her home with her two sisters where the elegant table cloth and napkins were a bright red. Carl Van Vechten saying in prohibition days that the three Stettheimer sisters were the only people he knew who could have a large dinner party without liquor and be successful with it.

With her settings for Gertrude Stein's Three Saints in Four Acts she made one of the most attractive things we have had in the New York theater. I cannot imagine it with any other settings. It was a perfect picture of Florine - like her home, her studio, her paintings. And everything we knew about her. Fantasy and reality all mixed up. She was perfectly consistent with any of her inconsistencies.

It always seemed fine to think that Florine could live and work serenely without having to market the thing she did. Her painting in a way is the last word about something of our time - a way of life that no one could build on it. It even seems that nothing need be added to it. It is a complete picture of a

-5-

person in her period.

Her work never could have gone on as it did if her life had
not been arranged as it was. Many galleries wished to show her
work but for her always something was wrong about the place or
the time. She would not do it unless it could be perfect and of
course nothing outside her own place could ever be perfect for
Florine.

I wish now that she is gone that her place with her work
could be kept intact as she had it. It was the ideal way a
perfect picture of a way of life and a way of working that as
the times seem to be pointing cannot happen again.

Florine was a city girl. She was a very delicate special
city girl. The painting came truly from her heart. Her feeling
was large and wide and free. It was delicate and minute and
carefully painstakingly done. Her painting represented hard work --
long, long hard work.

All of us who knew her will miss her lovingly and there
are many of us.

There were three sisters - Etty, Florine, and Carrie.
They were all very different but they were also very much more
like one another than they were like the rest of us.

There was more red velvet embroidery and fine brocades,
satin, gold fringe and such things than I find in the houses of
most painters. Etty one said to me sharply - "You know we have
been consumers as well as producers" and that settled that.

A family - the dignified white-haired mother - three daugh-
ters, (a married one whom they did not count), their governess,
their friends, our city and its doings, amusements, books, plays
pictures, its dress, general gossip and conversation.

-2-

I believe she read proud from cover to cover with the aid of
a reading glass. Her home, her studio were bright and airy. Fine
spacious white walls - one very high wide window to the north
opening out on the fountain back of the city Public Library. I
always think of her with a brilliant light. Her furnishings a
combination of white celophane, cherry red velvet, heavy gold
freeze and fine glass beads.

-3-

always looked as if they had never been touched the she said
they were in constant use. Nothing was really elegant enough
for Florine. She was a sort of Fairy Princess.

As she portrayed our city she chose only its most glamorous
bright and superficial aspects. There was no crime or dirt in
her city. Or if it was there she did not choose to paint that
aspect of the city. She left that to others who will most certainly
attend to it. She painted what she recognized as pleasant and
amusing in her world. Her mother - very charming and lovely in
black. Her government - stern and correct in brown. Portraits of
Carrie and Attie all aglitter. Her family as a birthday in
the country group. Each one wilting with the summer heat in
her own particular way. There was a summer beach, and Venus
brown on a sea shell, the scramble of a sale at Bendsals, Jimmie
Walker as our mayor and our glory, the Palaces of Art, portraits
of Hergesheimer, Van Vechten, Duchamp, Mccrside, Stieglitz and
many others. Always people or things of interest about the town
at the moment. Then one afternoon or evening there would be a
party and we would be shown a new painting.

-4-

-5-

person in her period.

I wish now that she is gone that her place with her work
could be kept intact as she had it. It was the ideal way a
perfect picture of a way of life and a way of working that we
the times seem to be pointing cannot happen again.

-2-

I believe she read Proust from cover to cover with the aid of
a reading glass. Her home, her studio were bright and airy. Fine
spacious white walls - one very high wide window to the north
opening out on the fountain back of the city Public Library. I
always think of her with a brilliant light. Her furnishings a
combination of white celophane, cherry red velvet, heavy gold
freezes and fine glass beads.

-4-

And the parties - oh yes there were the parties - large teas, small teas and good tea, dainty sandwiches and rich cakes. And no one ever came who was more amusingly costumed than Florine. Sometimes there would be only two or three for dinner, sometimes behind the lace and gold curtains - there would be many.

Many of us who gathered there for many years became friends. All of us admiring and considering Florine in a very special way - respecting her in a very special way because what we all felt about her demanded real respect even when her fantasy amused and seemed impossible we respected. Kindly remember that when I speak of Florine I am speaking of all of them. Of the three sisters.

With her settings for Gertrude Stein's Three Saints in Four Acts she made one of the most attractive things we have had in the New York theater. I cannot imagine it with any other settings. It was a perfect picture of Florine - like her home, her studio, her paintings, and everything we knew about her. Fantasy and reality all mixed up. She was perfectly consistent with any of her inconsistencies.

It always seemed fine to think that Florine could live and work serenely without having to market the thing she did. Her painting in a way is the last word about something of our time - a way of life that no one could build on, it. It even seems that nothing need be added to it. It is a complete picture of a