In the Frame: Christie's interviews ZE Books Publisher Michael Zilkha
The founder and publisher of ZE Books shares his passion for Balzac, his parrot and the profound power of art to tell stories that resonate
BY CHRISTIE’S LONDON
This interview first appeared on Christie’s.com on Sep 25, 2024
What are you working on currently?
Michael Zilkha: ‘I have half a dozen books in various stages of development. I can’t compete with large publishing houses on advances, so generally I must come up with the idea for a book with its author. I’ve published just ten books in five years, each one by a friend or acquaintance or thanks to a referral from a friend.’
What ritual or routine keeps you going?
MZ: ‘As soon as I wake up, I uncover the cage of my 23-year-old parrot, Dylan. He sits on my shoulder as I work through my inbox and read the New York Times online. I find his consistency and indifference to the chaos of the day centring.’
What work of art made you see things differently?
MZ: ‘Le Tricheur by Georges de La Tour. In early 1972, I spent part of my gap year at the Sorbonne. Fortuitously it was when the Musée de L’Orangerie organised their first big de La Tour retrospective. There were posters all over Paris of the face of the courtesan in the painting, sort of two dimensional with liquid, inquisitive eyes. I went to the show, was hooked and kept returning. I had a sense that art could tell stories from an Ed Kienholz retrospective at the ICA in London a year earlier, but this was when it really hit home for me.
Georges de La Tour (1593-1652), Le Tricheur à l’as de carreau, 1636. Musée du Louvre, Paris
‘In Le Tricheur a prodigal son is being fleeced of his wealth by a cardsharp who holds an ace behind his back, while a serving girl pours wine and the courtesan representing seduction communicates with her. We are fortunate that one of the two variants of the painting resides in Fort Worth at the Kimbell Museum, along with Caravaggio’s Cardsharps — two of my favourite paintings under one roof in my home state.’
Which book or author do you wish you could have published?
MZ: ‘Balzac, along with Charles Dickens, was one of the first authors to produce books in serial. It would’ve been so exciting to have been his publisher and to have read his Comédie Humaine as it developed. My favourite book of his is César Birotteau, where a brilliant perfumer is flattered into becoming a property speculator, goes bankrupt but because of his scrupulous honesty redeems himself and ends up a hero on his deathbed.’
What artists or designers are you watching right now?
MZ: ‘I mostly follow the careers of friends. Nan Goldin’s current show at Gagosian in New York centres around one of her finest films ever, You Never Did Anything Wrong, an apocalyptic masterpiece set in the animal kingdom. Tacita Dean has her first American retrospective at The Menil Collection in Houston in October, and Roni Horn had her exquisite retrospective at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art this past spring. I love Robert Longo’s drawings, Tom Sachs’ meticulousness, and Richard Prince’s intelligence and humour. I don’t visit galleries as often as I used to, so I mostly know artists who are my contemporaries, since we have no more wall space and I feel that works have to be on display, not in storage, to truly exist.’
Last gift you gave?
MZ: ‘A birthday IOU to my wife, Nina, for a Jeremy Frey basket, when we find the perfect one. He is a Passamaquoddy craftsman who had a revelatory show this summer at the Portland Museum of Art in Maine.’
Your favourite view, anywhere in the world?
MZ: ‘The view from my attic study at Prout’s Neck in Maine. Our house was built by Winslow Homer, and you can see some of the rocks he painted on the shoreline from the window. I love how the view transforms depending on the season, weather conditions and time of day.’
Most memorable show you’ve seen this year?
MZ: ‘Alejandro Escovedo and fourteen of Texas’s finest songwriters at The Moody Theater in Austin in January. This is an annual event Escovedo organises where he introduces each songwriter, who then plays a song that influenced him followed by one of his or her own. The concert lasted three hours but went by in a flash. All the artists participated in the finale — a spirited and ragged rendition of Townes Van Zandt’s Pancho and Lefty.’
Cover of Jonathan Lethem’s Cellophane Bricks: A Life in Visual Culture, 2024, ZE Books
What drew you to your latest title at ZE Books, Jonathan Lethem’s Cellophane Bricks: A Life in Visual Culture?
MZ: ‘I have admired Jonathan’s writing since I first came across Fortress of Solitude. When I started ZE Books I asked him if there was a book he wanted to do outside of his normal writing and he came up with the idea for Cellophane Bricks, which is centred around his art collection, acquired mostly by writing essays for shows or catalogues of artists who gave him a work of art in return. Catalogue essays are seldom read, so it was exciting to repurpose them, and Jonathan added a series of meditations about growing up around art and artists and how it has informed his writing and the way he has lived his life.’
Clovis Trouille (1889-1975), Les Seins flotteurs. Image: 13 x 18⅛ in (33.2 x 46 cm); artist's frame: 14½ x 19¾ x 0½ in (37 x 50 x 1.5 cm). Estimate: €20,000–30,000. Offered in Clovis Trouille, Super Surréaliste. Oeuvres provenant de l'atelier de l'artiste. on 3 October 2024 at Christie’s in Paris
Top picks from Christie’s right now?
MZ: ‘I’m super excited about Christie’s Clovis Trouille, Super Surréaliste auction, which features works from Trouille’s studio, on 3 October in Paris. I first became aware of Trouille at the Calmels Cohen André Breton sale in 2003. I’m particularly enamoured of his religious works such as Le Confessional (1959). I can’t quite figure out what is going on, but clearly the two women kneeling on either side of the confessional have a lot to come clean about. Perhaps the naked ghostlike woman floating in the centre of the painting is a fantasy conjured up in the mind of the priest hearing the confessions. As with so much of Trouille’s work the painting is sexy and mystifying. I can’t imagine ever tiring of it. I also like Les Seins flotteurs, which reminds me of Niki de Saint Phalle’s Nanas.’
