Peggy lived on the third floor of this prestigious apartment in the East Village which she said is a century-old. She is an interior designer working mainly on restaurants and cafes in New York.
Her place had a very sophisticated atmosphere with large windows and high ceilings, spacious and expertly furnished with vintage Scandinavian chairs and sofas.
“Edwin’s stuff is here. Can you give me a hand?” said Peggy as she opened a small, storage-like room.
The door opened to reveal a mountain of cardboard boxes. “Why don’t we start with these boxes labeled “BOOKS”?” said Peggy.
There were more than ten of such boxes that we carefully carried into the living room. Then the search began for the copy of Ballet.
I opened the box to discover most of the contents were pamphlets of ballet, dance, and theater performances.
“These are all the legacy of the stage performances he oversaw…”
“Most of the stuff here is pamphlets of various performances form the 40s to the 60s, but they are all professional work by artists, equivalent to an art book. Look at this one. This is a lithographic print of an illustration by Jean Cocteau. This is by the great fashion illustrator Christian Berard. This one’s by the artist Marcel Vertés, and this is a Matisse. If you sell these, I can’t imagine the price they would fetch…” Jack spoke excitedly.
In close view, despite being pamphlets, given the paper texture, the printing, and the design, they weren’t simple print materials but a portfolio of artists’ works.
According to Jack, for a collector, these were a true treasure chest which they would flip out about.
“Hey, aren’t these it?” said Peggy as she opened one of the boxes.
Jack and I stopped for a moment and stumbled over to where Peggy was.
We opened the box and there was a case made of hard paper packed with probably about 30 copies of this small thin photo book.

Jack carefully took out a copy and found the words, Ballet written in large text on the case.
“Wow… these are all copies of Ballet. And they are in a pristine condition…” Dumbfounded, Jack could barely speak.
Then, Peggy found a letter placed inside the case which she opened.
“This was a letter addressed to Edwin from this man Brodovitch. He says, thank you for helping out with the book… oh, and there are couple of pictures, black and white, out of focus though.” They were definitely the original prints by Brodovitch which became part of the book.
The “nice shirt and flower” jinx delivered!
“No, this can’t be. I want to pretend I didn’t see this…” Jack stood up and walked away to the windows.