Art: The Reward of Adam

Sandwiched between “Fine Chippendale” and “French Books” in the London Times last week was an ad that was enough to make an old sculptor turn in his chisel. The ad: “Epstein’s masterpieces. Adam, Jacob and the Angel, Consummatum Est, For Sale. Offers Wanted.” The statues were three of Jacob Epstein’s most famous works: a hulking, dumbly defiant alabaster giant that makes the first man look scarcely human; a muscle-bound Jacob hugging a brutish-looking angel; and a recumbent, mummy like figure of Christ, with crude but powerfully eloquent hands upturned in protest.

The three sculptures, along with a gracefully sprawling nude called Eve, had moved from owner to owner till they came to rest at a side show at Blackpool, a more sedate version of Coney Island, full of slot machines, peep shows and freaks. The Epsteins used to draw up to $4,000 a week, but when receipts fell off, the owner decided to sell out.

Sculptor Epstein raged that “Adam and the others should be in a museum.” But at week’s end the owner of the big three, an ice-cream manufacturer named Tony Crisp, still planned to sell to the highest bidder. What about Eve? She belonged to Crisp’s associate, one Walter West, and he was more considerate, said he might lend Eve to London’s Tate Museum. “I expect they’ll be tickled pink to get her.”