Two Men named Andrew

from Between Sittings an Informal Autobiography by Jo Davidson, The Dial Press; New York; 1951

For the next months, my wife's illness, complicated by a serious operation, threw a depressing atmosphere over the household and studio.

During this period, Mrs. Ailsa Bruce called to ask whether I would undertake to do her father's bust while he was visiting Paris. Her father was Andrew Mellon, Secretary of the Treasury.

The discussion of details, I recall, was conducted in a businesslike manner, befitting a Secretary of the Treasury. Mr. Mellon inquired briskly:

“If you do my bust, how many sittings would you want?”
“Three or four, more or less.”
“How big would you make the bust - with or without shoulders?”
“I don't know—as much as is necessary for the portrait.”
“How much do you charge?”
I told him.
“That's a good deal,” he said. “I never paid that sum before.
Have you had many busts made?” I asked.
“Three.”
“Where are they?”
“In the cellar.”
“Have you got a big cellar?”
He laughed. “Now if you do this bust, what would you do it in?” His fine face, delicate complexion, white hair and mustache, suggested stone or terra-cotta.
“I prefer bronze," he said.”
“Oh, I'll fry it in bronze too.”
“But,” said Mr. Mellon, “suppose it is not a success.”
“Then we shall call it a day.”
“And who is to be the judge?” he asked.
“You and I,” I said. “You see, Mr. Mellon, in my younger days, any bust I did had to be a success, whether it was or not. Today I charge enough to be able to afford to fail.”
“Now—what about your terms?”
“When the clay is completed and you and I agree that it is a success, you will pay me half of my fee—and the balance when you receive the completed bust.”
“You will do it in bronze, and if I don't like the bronze, you will do it in terra-cotta or stone?”
I agreed.
“Then I shall have both,” he said.
“No,” I said, “you will send me back the bronze.”
He laughed. “When do we start?”

Terra Cotta in the National Portrait Gallery

The sittings were easier than I anticipated, and when the clay was completed, Mr. Mellon expressed his satisfaction. As he left my studio, he slipped an envelope into my hand. I reminded him that he was to write and let me know what he thought of the bronze after he received it. He said he would.

Bronze in the National Gallery of Art

A year later, in New York, I ran into David Bruce and asked him how Mr. Mellon liked his bust. He was shocked that I had had no word from Mr. Mellon. “Why, I was there when the bust arrived—he was delighted with it, and went to no end of trouble to put it into the proper light.” Several days later I received a note from Mr. Mellon:

“Dear Mr. Davidson:

The bust of myself which you made in Paris and delivered at my house some time ago happened only to be brought to my attention today by Ailsa, who arrived here this week on a visit. We are all very pleased with the finished work, and I congratulate you on your successful efforts.

With kind regards, I am
Sincerely yours,
(signed) A. W. Mellon.”