Miss Elizabeth Arden,September 1939
Harper's Bazaar June 1964
"In 1934 my father lost a business he’d spent a lifetime achieving, and in his middle-years tried to sell life insurance that no one could afford to buy. We moved from a long stucco house and six trees in Cedarhurst, Long Island, to a three-room apartment on Ninety-Eighth Street in New York, a corner of which was called The Dining Alcove. It was there the family ate in silence; it was also my windowless bedroom. I was eleven years old. The walls beside my bed and the ceiling above were my domain, and I covered them with my chosen view: a gleaning of five years’ Christmas tuberculosis seals, three-hundred Dixie Cup tops, and the photographs of Martin Munkacsi."
"I cared nothing about photography and less about fashion, but the potentialities beyond Ninety-Eighth Street filled my waking dreams, and because my family subscribed to Harper’s Bazaar, it became my window and Munkacsi’s photographs my view."
"One Sunday evening my father and I deep in what my father called our “man to man” arrived at Fifty-Ninth Street stopping to watch a photographer pose a model. He asked her to lean against a tree, and in that dusk, whispered to her, changing the arch of her throat, the turn of her hand, whispering until her eyes lifted, until he was satisfied, and they left. I stared at the view for a long time, not at all understanding why he had chosen a peeling tree when the park the fountain, the plaza were so dazzling around him."
"Ten years later, in Paris, I saw for the first time the great flaking trees of the Champs Elysees; I understood then that he had found the only Proustian bark in New York, and he had photographed it. I knew by that time that the strong, witty, sensitive and anxious face on Fifty-Ninth Street ten years before was Munkacsi’s."
Miss Marlene Dietrich, September 1936
"It was my first lesson in photography, and there were many lessons after, all learned from Munkacsi, though I never met him.
The art of Munkacsi lay in what he wanted life to be, and he wanted it to be splendid. And it was."