Town & Country

The late Ann Getty held many titles throughout her life: philanthropist, publisher, interior designer, art collector, and, as per T&C in 1983, “one of the world’s greatest opera patrons.” So, in spring of that year, the celebrated photographer Norman Parkinson found it fitting to capture the grande dame in the stunning settings of King Ludwig’s Bavarian castles to honor the centenary of composer Richard Wagner’s death. Here, she is draped in Bulgari jewels and surrounded by swans—Ludwig was known as the “Swan King,” though it may also have been an irreverent reference to Truman Capote’s epithet for certain beauties of high society. Thirty-nine years later, another Getty graces the pages and cover of this magazine: Ann’s granddaughter Ivy Getty, an artist, a model, and one of the most delightfully eccentric…

Consider how many times you have uttered “It’s surreal” over the past two years. It’s no coincidence that there have been two big museum shows in the last 12 months dedicated to that post–WWI movement of melting clocks and floating eyes. Now here we are again, reckoning reality with imagination. Like then, the mission of Surrealism still inspires the visions of artists in all realms. (See: Elsa Schiaparelli in the 1930s and Daniel Roseberry’s line for Schiaparelli in 2022.) The work of jewelers, as with all decorative art, reflects the time in which it was created. The Surrealist era inspired Dalí and Man Ray to translate their abstract ideas into ruby and pearl lips and floating glass and diamond eyes, to try to reconcile some of the absurdity of a…

WHERE ARE WE GOING? Since it was founded, in 1895, to celebrate the silver anniversary of King Umberto I and Margherita of Savoy, the Venice Biennale has cemented the reputations of global contemporary talent. At this year’s “Olympics of the art world,” Team USA will be represented by the sculptor Simone Leigh, who is dedicating her entire exhibition to the contributions of Black women. APRIL 23–NOVEMBER 27 WHAT ARE WE WEARING? Baldassare Castiglione coined the term sprezzatura in his 1528 guide to life, The Book of the Courtier, defining it as the art of studied nonchalance, a virtue to be applied in all aspects of life. Half a millennium later, Italians still faithfully adhere to the code. How can the rest of us? A Rolex Oyster Perpetual, perennial classic, is a start. Factor…

Happy Hour, the recent debut novel from author and filmmaker Marlowe Granados, offers an intriguing proposition for our increasingly unpredictable times. Protagonists Isa and Gala are whimsical party girls fumbling their way through a summer in New York, entirely unconcerned with the social climbing and career advancement that bog down many young arrivistes. Rather, Granados tells me, “They’re motivated by the possibility of having a good time.” Think of the book as Bright Lights, Big City for the new decade, a tantalizing blueprint showing the way forward: no ambition, no agita, very little drama—only good vibes. Vibes, as it happens, rank high among the preoccupations of the creative elite and the leisure class as we enter an amorphous cultural moment that feels awkward and tentative but awfully close to fully revealing…

During her time, Martha Mitchell was inescapable. The Arkansas-born wife of John Mitchell, Richard Nixon’s attorney general, was an invaluable source for gossip columnists, a guest star on Laugh-In, and the cover star of a 1970 issue of Time devoted to the women of Washington, DC. But her true place in history is weightier than pop culture ubiquity. “If it hadn’t been for Martha,” Richard Nixon told David Frost in 1977, “there’d have been no Watergate.” Mitchell’s predilection for critiquing the administration—which earned her the nickname “The Mouth of the South”—caused headaches, but it was her threat to tell reporters the truth about the break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters that resulted in a beating, kidnapping, and smear campaign. Fifty years later, she’s finally getting her due. “It was brave of…

Nora Ephron said it best: “I love Zabar’s more than Zabar’s loves me. I’m not complaining, just stating a fact.” In 1934 Louis and Lillian Zabar opened their namesake emporium on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, and it’s been a fixture ever since. Out this month, Zabar’s: A Family Story, with Recipes, by Lori Zabar, the founders’ late granddaughter, charts the shop’s evolution from round-the-corner joint to landmark. The aisles are still narrow, the checkout is still crowded, and the store is still in the mishpacha, with Louis and Lillian’s descendants at the helm. No matter the wait, no matter the tourists—fastidious New Yorkers wouldn’t get their smoked sable elsewhere. MEET ME AT THE FISH COUNTER Three questions for Zabar’s general manager, Scott Goldshine. What was your first gig? I started in 1977. My…