The fact that Katharine Hepburn kept -- for 75 years -- the
crushed-velvet dress she wore on her wedding day suggests we didn't
know her as well as we thought.
Her marriage to "Luddy" lasted six years, ending in a 1934 Mexican
divorce. Was the gown simply so insignificant she forgot about it? No,
she mentioned it in her memoirs. Was she a closet sentimentalist? A
pack rat? A thrifty New Englander who reasoned she might recycle the
gown for later nuptials if she gave the nod to suitor Howard Hughes,
or to Spencer Tracy? If not, why didn't she donate the designer dress
to a museum, or the costume department of alma mater Bryn Mawr?
For whatever reason, she didn't. And now some star-struck 21st Century
bride may be the beneficiary. The embroidered Babani is one tiny part
of a celebrity auction starring personal belongings of an authentic
woman-of-the-world.
Sotheby's New York hosts the June 10-11 dispersal of the Great Kate's
things, from furniture purchased on location in Africa to Hepburn's
own artwork (reported to be, what else, remarkable). She even sculpted
a bronze bust of Tracy, her tortured co-star in life and love scenes.
It's included in the sale.
Imagine winning the Burberry vests or custom-made trousers worn by the
woman who took on both Jo March and Eleanor of Aquitaine. As for the
wedding gown, Sotheby's estimates it will finish at $2,500 to $3,500.
One of the bigger sales
Anticipation surrounding the sale of Hepburn's property rivals the
buzz before auctions for the worldly goods of other icons: Jacqueline
Kennedy Onassis (her own BMW, JFK's rocking chair), the Duchess of
Windsor, Marilyn Monroe (whose jeans Tommy Hilfiger purchased for
$42,500).
The director of Sotheby's collectibles department, senior vice
president Leila Dunbar, was steeped in Hepburniana when we caught up
with her. "I feel like Nancy Drew," said Dunbar, surprised to be even
more wowed by Hepburn than she expected to be.
She credits the star's signature confidence and gusto for life to her
upbringing in an accomplished family with tight-knit bonds and people
who loved her. "How many actresses in the '30s went to Hollywood armed
with a college education and such an enormous sense of security?"
Dunbar mused.
"And who could argue with the American Film Institute ranking her the
No. 1 actress of all time?" Dunbar asks, pointing to Hepburn's
unparalleled credentials: four Oscars, 12 nominations and a film
career spanning 1932-1994. "But she was also the prototype of the
modern woman, someone who stood up to life on her own terms; a great
beauty and reluctant sex symbol who managed to maintain her true
persona; a business woman ahead of her time who negotiated her own
studio contracts."
Those studio contracts -- and canceled checks, glamour photos,
driver's licenses, rare autographs -- are part of the sale. Reassuring
news for all who hold Hepburn in high esteem is word that the estate
is huge, comprising roughly 700 lots. (The norm is 300 to 400.)
Perhaps the Renaissance woman accumulated so much because she lived a
long life (she died last year at age 96), ran three households (the
Connecticut family estate, her New York town house and an L.A. rental
once shared with Tracy) and traveled extensively.
Joie de vivre
Having seen it all -- the prolific Hepburn's 100-plus pieces of
artwork (small-scale efforts may be the bargain to watch), her
furniture, decorative objects, clothing, books -- Dunbar formed an
impression: "Her joie de vivre permeates everything she touched."
It's only natural to wonder, "Will the auction competition want what I
want?" Martin Short surely hopes to claim a vest. Maybe Kate Mulgrew,
who played Hepburn in a one-woman show last year, covets the witty
Hirschfeld caricatures. Cate Blanchette, portraying Hepburn in Martin
Scorsese's upcoming "The Aviator," probably pines for Howard Hughes'
gift of an Art Deco diamond brooch.
I'll be hoping no one else notices the press kit for 1938's "Holiday";
the passport in the name of Katharine Ludlow; an address book
containing phone numbers for Tracy and Laurence Olivier; purchase
agreements for "Woman of the Year"; and the unique beauty's longtime
makeup mirror.
Just in case, I hedged my bets and ordered the $50 auction catalog
(888-752-0002 or http://search.sothebys.com). Destined to become a
collector's item, it will also prove to be the late lady of stage and
screen's final best seller.
Because our death rituals don't include taking all of our earthly
possessions into the after life, I wouldn't refer to it as grave robbing
at all. What our society does have is a cult of celebrity, we worship
our celebrities in much the same way that saints were revered in the
middle ages. Thus the parcelling and selling of a dead celebrities
possessions more closely resembles the medieval practice of selling
saints relics, and pieces of the True Cross.
Movies have become our culture's mythology, and the stories we see in
the movie theatre help to shape our beleifs about our lives and our
history, If movies were really just trivial entertainments, would we
have serious debate about films like Gibson's latest, or *Schindler's
List*, or even *Roger Rabbit*? Taken to the extreme, the actors in any
given movie are regarded as avatars of the characters they play - or if
you're in Bollywood, the actors are avatars of the gods themselves,
literally.
Owning or viewing movie props, costumes, sketches, and the personal
items of the actors themselves, bring us one step closer to
participating in the drama. The marriage of theatre and religion is an
old one, *secular* entertainment is a modern concept.
brigid