I first met Susan when I was working at Sotheby’s. She would quietly but intently stalk the sales, studying every object with that unmistakable eye of hers. My father advised her in those early years, and the two of them would talk for hours about what to buy. Susan always chose the finest things. One of my favorites was the Pontypool tray on a Chippendale stand. I had never seen anything like it then, nor have I since.​

Her passion for textiles anchored so much of her collecting. She adored the history embedded in objects, the way a fragment or motif could point to centuries of historical art and design. You see that sensibility throughout this sale: the drawings of candelabras and other ornament, the pieces that reflect a deep love of the decorative arts. Susan had an uncanny ability to see how objects spoke to one another, with an understanding of the cross-pollination of ideas and influences across art history. The life of an antiquarian certainly suited her.​

Susan volunteered hundreds upon hundreds of hours at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, assisting curators and contributing to research with the same thoughtful rigor she brought to her own collection. Her Park Avenue apartment, shared with her husband, Alan, showcased her extraordinary taste in textiles, ceramics, furniture, and works of art. I knew her son Michael, from our intern days at Sotheby’s, and we had a grand old time working together. He is dearly missed, too.​​

I often think back on collectors like Susan – people my father, my grandfather, and eventually I had the privilege to work with – and I realize how lucky I’ve been to be along for the ride.​