Jonathan Grado

I ended up with a Rene Magritte book signed by Dominique de Menil. That’s the thing. You can scroll to the photos or read on for some backstory.

I had revisited the Museum of Modern Art with a close friend for the first time in years. I haven’t been in New York as much I would like to be lately. It was incredible. And the parking garage fee? Sigh, I missed numbers so high (I had luggage in the car so no subway). Anyway, I got home and my mom had asked if anything stood out. I mentioned my favorite was still Lovers by Rene Magritte. My mom exclaimed that’s her favorite painting too. Did I know this? Had I forgotten? Is this a round about way of saying after all these years do I really know my own mother? No.

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The same friend that I went to MoMA with had come back from the Menil Collection and Foundation in Houston, Texas and told me about their Magritte collection. Coincidentally, I had just found an old Rene Magritte art book available online and picked it up. David Sylvester’s Magritte. Now out of print, it was published in 1992 for The Menil Foundation’s Magritte collection. The book is wonderful. Words. Paintings. The description of the sense of humor of a Belgian artist. Everything you could ever want. But under the opening flap of the dust jacket, there’s a postcard with a signature by a woman named Dominique.

By chance, this book is signed by Dominique de Menil, founder of the Menil Collection. Dated February 14, 1995. This Magritte book was a gift from her to her friend, and is now being written about in the same train of thought of “do I really know my own mother?”

Magritte might laugh.