Mucha in Boca Raton,

How Czech Art Nouveau Flew to Florida.

Not long ago, I wrote the first installment of my Florida trip, titled "From Mucha to Butterflies, or a Journey to Paradise." At the time, I didn't explain the title, but there was a specific reason behind it. You see, our tour of Boca Raton’s beaches and galleries didn't start with nature—it started with Mucha. Now, if you’re a fan of fine art, you know I’m talking about the legendary Alphonse Mucha. But if you aren't an art history buff, you might have spent the last few minutes wondering why I was so excited to see a "Mucha" (which, for my Russian-speaking friends, sounds exactly like the word for a common housefly!).

Even when we were planning where to go (the butterfly museum, the swamp with alligators, the Japanese Garden—which didn't happen, but, I hope, "hasn't happened yet"), my friend discovered that in her small Boca Raton, two world-class exhibitions were taking place. (The second one was a miracle we even got into. I won't write about the second exhibition in this story; I have to keep the suspense—wait for the next stories.)

And the exhibition of Alphonse Mucha’s works, "Timeless Mucha: The Magic of Line," is taking place, you could say, practically next to her house, in the local art museum. (I repeat on purpose that the town is small and the museum is small—don't think I’m not aware of that.)

I became interested in how the barely-on-the-map Boca Raton and a small art museum ended up on the list of museums worthy of hosting a major European exhibition organized by the Mucha Foundation.(?!)

I’m looking for information about the museum.

The history of this museum is a classic example of "bottom-up" initiative. It all began in 1950, when several local residents, burning with the idea of developing the arts, created the "Art Guild of Boca Raton." They had no building of their own and no official status, only a desire to unite the city around art. For a long time, they worked practically on a volunteer basis until they built their first building in 1962. Over time, the collections grew so much that the walls of the old house became too tight. Build a museum? Enthusiasm is one thing, but building requires money, and the amount needed just for construction was significant: 13 million. And, imagine, the museum opened in 2001 completely debt-free, which is a rare achievement for cultural organizations.

Where did the money come from?!

I’m searching...

There were several sources. The city supported the project by allocating precious land right in the center, in "Mizner Park," for a symbolic fee of one dollar a year. This form of long-term lease for 99 years became a decisive contribution from the municipality, allowing all collected donations to go directly toward building the walls and setting up the galleries. The state of Florida helped with grants through the Department of Cultural Affairs. However, the main burden fell on the shoulders of private patrons, thanks to whom they managed to raise the impressive sum (well, you remember, those same 13 million dollars).

Wealthy patrons—a general term; I’m looking for who exactly gave their money.

There were two wealthy families living in the city at that time... (Well, actually, there are ma-a-any wealthy families in Boca Raton! There were and still are. The question is where these wealthy families spend their money. Though, it’s their money—they spend it where they want.)

And those two wealthy families (Adolph and Henrietta de Hoernle and the Schmidt family, Charles and Dorothy) in the 1950s and 60s "competed" in donations to improve their city: building schools, hospitals, theaters...

And by the way, the de Hoernle family is a Count and Countess de Hoernle. Admit it, it became interesting: the main philanthropist of Boca Raton is Countess de Hoernle! It has a ring to it! The last name is practically impossible to read or pronounce, and the title for my plebeian ear feels like a promotion in status. Okay, irony aside, let's look for something about the Countess's life.

She was often called the "Queen of Charity" of Florida. And her story is like a classic novel: Henrietta was not born noble or titled; born in Germany in 1912, she was the daughter of musicians. Her life changed for the first time in 1931, at the age of eighteen, when she left Germany and sailed to New York to join her grandparents. The second time was when she married Count Adolph de Hoernle. The Count was her third husband, who adopted Henrietta’s two daughters from her previous marriages. I must disappoint you, as I was disappointed myself: Adolph de Hoernle did not inherit the title from ancient ancestors of the Middle Ages. It was a knightly title granted to him for his merits. The title of Count was granted to Adolph by the Order of Malta (more precisely, one of its branches recognized by the royal houses of Europe) in recognition of his huge contribution to humanitarian activities and philanthropy. (And why was I disappointed? He earned this title himself! On his own! He didn't just get it from his mom and dad.) Adolph, like Henrietta, was an immigrant. He came to the U.S. from Germany back in the 1920s with only a few dollars in his pocket, and by the time they met, he had already built a fortune in precision instrument manufacturing (Great Lakes Screw Corporation).

It was love at first sight: they met in 1950 and married two weeks after they met. In 1981, the couple moved to Boca Raton for retirement. Instead of just relaxing at their villa, Henrietta decided her mission was to spend money for the good of society. She was famous for her practicality and German bluntness; in the internet, one of her statements is striking for exactly that: "Money is like manure: if you don't spread it around, it’s no good, it just stinks. But if you spread it, it helps everything grow."

Though... if the internet is right, the Countess simply borrowed this phrase from Francis Bacon: "Money is like muck, not good except it be spread." (Bacon, essay "Of Usury," 17th century.) However, centuries change, but the essence of money does not.

Short in stature, she wore elaborate hats, which was her "trademark." Despite her status as a countess and huge donations, she was very frugal in daily life. They say she could buy a dress in a regular store for twenty dollars so that the thousands saved could go toward building a new soup kitchen for the poor. I really liked a sentence on Wikipedia: "Over the course of three decades, with the Countess taking the more public role as a leader or board member of a host of charity foundations, the Count followed her guidance in donating millions of dollars of his fortune." There it is, the secret to a happy marriage! (I say this almost without irony.)

When the museum was collecting those 13 million for the building in Mizner Park, Henrietta and her husband were among the first to write a check for a large sum. Henrietta lived an incredibly long and active life. She passed away in 2016 at the age of 103. Until her very last days, she could be found at events in the city.

For her 100th birthday, a booklet "Henrietta, Countess de Hoernle: A Biography" was published, where her famous sayings ("Quotable Quotes") were collected:

"Give while you live, so you know where your money goes. There are no checkbooks in the afterlife." (This was her main philosophy. At the same time, she wanted to personally see the buildings that were built with the money she gave.)

"I plan to leave this world with empty pockets. I want to spend every last cent on good deeds." (She almost achieved this, giving away more than 40 million dollars).

When she was asked at age 100 about the secret to her longevity, she replied: "The secret is to be too busy to die. I have so many meetings and openings on my calendar that death simply has nowhere to fit in."

She really disliked passivity: "Many people just sit on their money like hens on eggs, waiting for something to hatch. But to get a result, you have to get up and start acting."

She often poked fun at her style and hats (she had over two hundred in her collection). When asked why she needed so many, she answered: "If I wear a hat, people will notice me. And if they notice me, they will hear about the cause I support. A hat is my megaphone."

She often joked about her status as a countess as well: "A title doesn't make you better than anyone else. It just means you have to work twice as hard to prove you’re worth something without it."

Next to the museum stands the Amphitheater at Mizner Park, which bears the names of the Count and Countess de Hoernle. The museum gallery is named in her honor, as are many other buildings in Boca Raton. If you drive through the city, you can see her name on hospitals, schools, theaters, and, of course, at the museum. Somewhere near the museum stands a monument to the Count and Countess de Hoernle, but I’ve only seen it in photos.

But it’s not only the Countess that Boca Raton residents are indebted to. The museum's funds (over 4,500 exhibits) were formed mainly through large private donations.

The collection of Dr. John Mayers is perhaps the most valuable part. In 1989, he gifted the museum works by modernists: Degas, Matisse, Modigliani, Picasso, and Klee. The museum is proud of a serious collection of artifacts from ancient civilizations of America and Africa (a gift from the Kolker family). A significant part of the collection consists of 19th-20th century photographs (the Friedman collection).

The permanent collection, of course, is small, but it includes the Modigliani I love so much, and the Picasso I so hate (excuse my bluntness)... Even if it’s just one painting, the collection has the best of the best!

The museum is very active, focusing on "education through art": the museum has its own large art school where they teach everything from ceramics to digital photography. There are often meetings with curators and screenings of documentary films about artists (especially during exhibitions like Mucha's). They hold "Education Mornings" and Family Days with workshops. The exhibition "Timeless Mucha: The Magic of Line," which we attended, fits perfectly into the museum's current course: showing not only the classics of Art Nouveau but also its influence on the present day.

I won't tell you much about Alphonse Mucha; in the notes, I’ve collected articles and videos for you that will demonstrate, tell, explain, and interpret better than I can... I will only show you what I liked. Well, and I’ll have to explain a little so that everyone reading, regardless of their interests, understands what we’re talking about.

Alphonse Mucha (1860–1939) was an outstanding Czech artist whose name became synonymous with the Art Nouveau style. His works are concentrated beauty, harmony, and elegance of the turn of the century. (I just like him. Yes, he’s not "the greatest," one can find "flaws," but when you like someone, that doesn't matter, right?)

Mucha, self-portrait. Sketches in his Munich apartment, 1886, oil on canvas.

Art Nouveau (French for "new art") is an artistic movement in art at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, roughly 1890–1910. (I also just like paintings and jewelry in this style.)

Mucha became famous literally overnight in 1894 when he created a poster for the play "Gismonda" starring the great actress Sarah Bernhardt. She was so impressed by his work that she signed an exclusive six-year contract with him.

The exhibition features those famous theater posters for Sarah Bernhardt.

"Gismonda" (1894) - the first poster that made Mucha famous overnight.

"La Dame aux Camélias" (1896). One of the most elegant images of the actress.

Hamlet, color lithograph from 1899.

A small side note. When Sarah Bernhardt first took the stage in the role of Hamlet in May 1899, she was 54 years old (she turned 55 in October of that year). She performed in a black doublet that emphasized her slender figure, allowing her to look significantly younger than her years. For that time, it was a bold and even scandalous step: an older woman taking on the role of the young prince, traditionally performed by men. (Is such a thing even possible for our time? And which actress would cope with such a role?!) However, for the "Divine Sarah," it became one of her greatest triumphs. Her prince was an energetic, decisive, passionate, and impulsive youth. Critics described her performance as "sunny" and devoid of traditional heaviness. In the famous graveyard scene, Sarah Bernhardt used a real human skull. Legend has it that it was a gift from the writer Victor Hugo. The production was so popular that in 1900, a short scene of the duel between Hamlet and Laertes was filmed. Thus, Sarah Bernhardt became the first actress to capture the image of Hamlet on film. I found a unique archival recording on YouTube: the film "Le Duel d'Hamlet," shot in 1900 for the World's Fair in Paris. Sarah Bernhardt is about 55 years old here. In this short clip, she performs the role of Prince Hamlet in the final duel scene with Laertes. Initially, the film was shown with "live" sound: during the screening, actors behind the screen (including Sarah Bernhardt herself) spoke the lines live and made the sounds of clashing swords to synchronize them with the image.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXh9IbESHA0

"Lorenzaccio," 1896, color lithograph. Sarah Bernhardt played the leading male role in this play, written by Alfred de Musset in 1834. The action takes place in 16th-century Florence and tells of Lorenzo de' Medici’s murder of his cousin Alessandro de' Medici, the tyrant Duke of Florence, depicted here as a dragon at the top of the poster.

"Posters were a good way to educate the general public: people would stop and look at posters on their way to work, getting aesthetic pleasure from it; the streets turned into open-air art exhibitions." Alphonse Mucha.

His recognizable signature is women. Always impeccably beautiful, languid, imperturbably calm... I would love to be that beautiful!

"Reverie," 1897, color lithograph. Initially created for a Champenois publishing house calendar, this work was also released as a decorative panel. It depicts a young woman in an embroidered Slavic dress leafing through a book of sketches.

It seems to me that his paintings are liked more by women?

That is, the women depicted might be liked by men, but the paintings as a whole are for women. Or do you think differently? It would be interesting to talk to men about this. We women are happy to see ourselves like this: flexible, slender (and not skinny—back then, skinniness hadn't yet come into fashion).

And to see oneself in a halo of flowers and arabesques, surrounded by complex colorful ornaments and mosaic nimbi.

Mucha didn't just paint posters for Sarah Bernhardt; he was a universal master: he designed interiors, created sketches for jewelry, furniture, cutlery, and even packaging for cookies and soap, believing that art should be accessible to everyone.

Lefevre-Utile biscuits, 1897 calendar poster, color lithograph.

"JOB" (1896). An iconic advertisement for cigarette paper, where the girl’s hair forms the famous "arabesques" (the so-called "Mucha macaroni").

It’s precisely this side of his work that I like (I wanted to say "most of all," but, perhaps, just like). After all, how pleasant it is to buy soap, or baby food, or—higher yet—champagne in beautiful packaging. Sometimes the packaging is better than the product itself.

"La Trappestine" is a liqueur produced by Paris distillers Lagouey & Delbergue based on a recipe inspired by Trappist monks. Behind the figure of the woman, Mucha depicted a prominent halo decorated with circular motifs borrowed from the Maltese cross, which refers to the religious order and thereby hints at the divine origin of this drink.

This poster, developed for the PLM (Paris-Lyon-Méditerranée) railway company, advertised tourism on the main railway line connecting Paris and the French Riviera. To express their slogan: "A 16-hour journey on a luxury train from Paris to Monte Carlo," Mucha did not depict a traditional scene with bourgeois travelers. Instead, he hinted at the anticipation of a luxurious vacation through the image of a girl dreaming of the charms of Monte Carlo.

Mucha also created decorative panels, usually in cycles of four—like the seasons, or twelve—like the zodiac signs.

"The Moon and Stars," "The Pole Star," 1902, color lithograph.

"The Moon and Stars" is Mucha’s last series of decorative panels. Consisting of four panels depicting the Moon, the Evening Star, the Pole Star, and the Morning Star, this series reflects the philosophical theme of the mysteries of the universe and the harmony of nature.

These works were created not for advertising, but for decorating the interiors of ordinary citizens.

"Zodiac," 1896, color lithograph.

Mucha was particularly critical of the idea of "art for art's sake," which was becoming increasingly popular among avant-garde artists in late 19th-century Europe. Instead, he took on commercial projects, which allowed him to introduce artistic themes inherent in nature, as seen in his sketches for the Champenois calendar; these sketches were also converted into decorative panels for the home, like this sample.

The Arts: "Dance," 1898, color lithograph.

In 1896, Mucha used a circular composition in his posters and decorative panels dedicated to the four arts.

Later, this technique was named the "Q formula": a sitting figure is depicted in the center of the composition, surrounded by a circular motif, and the falling folds of her clothing form the letter "Q." "The Arts," 1898. A series of four works: Dance, Painting, Poetry, and Music.

Flowers: "Lily," 1897, color lithograph.

Mucha’s "Flowers" series of decorative panels includes four images of women symbolizing the rose, iris, carnation, and lily. The lily has long been known as a symbol of innocence and purity, which is expressed here in the image of a young woman dressed in white and looking toward the sky.

Reproductions of Mucha’s lithographs, if you want to buy them, seem brighter to me than the originals themselves. In general, the entire exhibition is characterized by "muted" tones.

Mucha’s works are colorful but not loud; you don't get tired of looking at them. In terms of tones, they are like the nature of Central Europe, only everything depicted is in excess and abundance, as if multiplied by the artist’s imagination.

Mucha is truly a master of lines; the title of the exhibition very accurately characterizes the artist. Also, the women, in a circular framing of ivy and Byzantine patterns, resemble stained glass windows.

The exhibition did not have the artist's largest canvases, so I’ll just tell you a little about them, and from there—Google them yourself.

Despite global success in Paris and the U.S., Mucha always remained a Czech patriot. He dedicated the second half of his life to creating a cycle of twenty colossal canvases, the "Slavic Epic," which he gifted to Prague.

The sponsor of this most ambitious project was American millionaire and Slavophile Charles Crane, whom the artist met in the U.S. It was thanks to his financial support that Mucha could leave commercial commissions behind and focus on the history of his people for eighteen years.

Returning to the Czech Republic, Mucha settled in the majestic Zbiroh Castle in Western Bohemia. There, he rented a huge hall with high ceilings, which he turned into a studio—only such dimensions allowed him to work on canvases six meters high and eight meters wide.

His life ended tragically: in March 1939, when the Nazis occupied Czechoslovakia, Alphonse Mucha was included on the list of "enemies of the people" because of his patriotism and Freemasonry. Despite his advanced age (he was 78), he was one of the first arrested by the Gestapo. He was subjected to harsh interrogations for many hours, as a result of which the artist caught a severe cold. He fell ill with pneumonia and passed away in July 1939, just a few weeks before the start of World War II.

The exhibition in Boca Raton surprised me with both the number of works and the selection of works by artists working in Mucha’s style, as well as the quality of the organization.

I was at the Mucha Museum in Prague in 2018. Мои впечатления были не лучшими. It seemed to me then that the museum's display was sparse, photography was prohibited in the museum, and the most memorable thing was a short film and a colorful souvenir shop that seemed richer than the museum itself. Only three or four photos remained from that entire visit. The internet says that in February 2025, a new permanent Mucha Museum opened in Prague in the historic Savarin Palace. "So if you want to see even more of the master’s works, including those not included in the traveling exhibition, they now have a stunning new home in the Czech Republic!"—advice from the same internet. Only you have to fly there... But this time we were lucky: the exhibition "flew" to my friend in Florida and we visited it!

Okay, jokes aside, now for real. The main "engine" of the exhibition in Boca Raton is the Mucha Foundation, based in Prague. It is managed by Alphonse Mucha’s direct descendants: his grandson John Mucha and great-grandson Marcus Mucha. They preserve the family collection and decide which cities in the world it will travel to. Bringing such an exhibition costs a huge amount of money (insurance of masterpieces, special climate-controlled transportation, security). The journey of these masterpieces across America is impressive: starting their path at the Phillips Collection in Washington, the exhibits crossed the country to Santa Fe, and after Boca Raton, they will head to Kansas City to conclude their tour with a triumphant showing in Mexico City.

The Mucha Foundation is very strict about selecting venues. The fact that they chose the Boca Raton Museum of Art as one of the few stops in the U.S. (along with Washington and Kansas City) is a great recognition of the museum's status. A small museum in a small city. It’s not just about the building in Mizner Park meeting the highest world standards of security and climate control. It’s about the fact that people live here who go to art exhibitions.

And remember the title of the cycle: "from Mucha to butterflies"? It occurred to me that Mucha (the artist) and butterflies are much more closely connected than I initially thought: the artist's paintings are just as colorful, just as ornamental, and just as delicate as the patterns on a butterfly’s wings... And just as indescribable as the emergence of a butterfly from a chrysalis, it’s unclear how paintings are born in an artist's imagination... (Well, here you go, you’ll reproach me again for being too highbrow.) That’s all for me for today; tomorrow I’ll have to write about another exhibition... but that will be tomorrow.

P.S.

1. In the museum, one of the halls was dedicated to works by other artists in whose work the influence (if not direct borrowing) of Mucha’s paintings is clearly visible.

When you walk through the hall and look at the paintings of others, you see more clearly the uniqueness of Alphonse Mucha's original works, the individuality and irreproducibility of his style. You understand (with all my sincere respect for other artists) that they are copies, while the real, authentic Art Nouveau was created at the beginning of the 20th century.

Interestingly, there are many works by Japanese artists.

Ryoko Yamagishi lives and works in Japan. Black Helene, Hana to Yume, journal, June 1979, digital print from the original drawing.

Yoshitaka Amano lives and works in Tokyo, Japan, and New York. Final Fantasy. Adventurer and the God of Storms. 2010. Digital print from the original drawing.

Yoshitaka Amano lives and works in Tokyo, Japan, and New York. "Two Princesses, Heroic Legend of Arslan," 1987. Digital print from the original drawing.

Barry Windsor-Smith, born in London, England, moved to and works in the United States, "Fire," 1979, color lithograph.

Bob Masse (artist) lives and works in Vancouver.

Bob Masse (artist) lives and works in Vancouver. Advertising poster depicting a fisherwoman for the group The Collectors, 1960, offset lithograph.

The Collectors (group). Vinyl record cover (cardboard sleeve), 1968.

Dean Torrance (Kittyhawk graphics), Los Angeles, Camarillo, California. A design depicting Mucha’s lily was used on the cover of the album Let the Sunshine In, released in 1969 by the American female vocal group Diana Ross and The Supremes. On the cover, Diana Ross is depicted in a white dress decorated with white lilies.

Akemi Matsunae lives and works in Japan. "Zodiac Girl," cover of Banquet magazine, September 1989.

2. I found photographs from 2018: The Alphonse Mucha Museum in Prague, where I photographed colorful posters decorating the museum windows. And I furtively managed to photograph a couple of drawings that struck me—rowan berries and "Angel’s Trumpet" flowers (lat. Brugmansia). I even planted this shrub in my garden later, but it didn't survive.