Louis M. Aledort, MD, MACP
Retired hematologist
The Mary Weinfeld Professor of Clinical Research in Hemophilia
Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai
New York City, New York
Lifetime Achievement Award, Hemophilia and Thrombosis Research Society, 2010
1969 lithograph on handmade
paper by American abstract
expressionist Helen Frankenthaler.
When and where did you start developing an interest in art?
It started when I was a student at Queens College in Queens, New York. I was pre-med and only had two electives over the entire four years. I took one art appreciation class, and I liked it. I liked it enough, in fact, that after college, I started buying small pieces of art at the Metropolitan Museum for around five bucks. When I started my internship [at University of Virginia Hospital in Charlottesville], I had the lumberyard make me some frames. I had five or six pieces, and my most beloved piece was Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec’s The Seated Clowness.1 It’s one of Lautrec’s most famous works. The first party I hosted as an intern was a Halloween party where everybody had to come as a famous piece of art. I’d made a mobile out of medical equipment, and every guest had to have their picture taken under the mobile as they came in. We had a contest for the best costume. I came as Bacchus (the Greek god of wine and vegetation), wearing all white and holding grapes, with my hair dyed silver. I scared away all the trick-or-treaters — they were petrified!
Three-dimensional lithograph and
silkscreen work by New York City-
based painter and printmaker Jane
Hammond.
When and how did you go from having an interest in art to having a collection?
When I finished my residency in hematology, I knew the art pieces in my life were transitory. I gave all of them to my co-residents before I left for New York City and joined the faculty at Mount Sinai. One of the earliest patients I had was Tatyana Grossman, a woman who single-handedly revived lithography in America with the company she founded, Universal Limited Art Editions. I started visiting her studio, where I would meet the artists and watch them do lithography. And that’s how I started to collect. I wouldn’t buy from dealers; I’d buy the pieces right off the press. My collection is almost exclusively print, but I also collect sculpture. I have 10 to 12 pieces of carved wood, which I continue to buy, as well as lithography. I collect bronze dancers because I love to dance. I love furniture and have created, with well-known American craftsmen, a chest of drawers and wonderful pieces to keep my silver and dishes. All these pieces are made from wood — I’m a big wood person — and I feel that “made in America” is important. Since I travel a lot, I also have Sang De Boeuf vases from China and sculptures from Africa. I’m inspired by African art.
Does your love for art and travel ever intersect with your profession?
Every year for the past eight or nine years, I’ve traveled to Mumbai, India, where I volunteer to run a clinic. I see about a thousand patients there, and I train young doctors. It’s great fun. Then I try to go see a different part of the world, like Mauritius and the Seychelles. This year, after all the work, I will go to Bangladesh.
1998 work by American painter
and graphic artist Elizabeth Murray.
How many pieces of art do you own, and how do you display them?
I have around 60 pieces, mostly by American artists. The art is displayed in my Upper West Side apartment, which is in a 1929 Jayco landmark building with very high ceilings and lots of gorgeous moldings. For the [International Fine Print Dealers Association] Print Fair, I was asked to volunteer the apartment and was able to get a docent and three different artists whose work I collect to give lectures. We had so many subscribers we had to do it in two sessions! As for caring for the items, the number one rule is that none of the good pieces are in direct light. No light can touch them because of the paper they’re on. That’s how I’ve kept many of the pieces here for 30 years, and they’re still in pristine condition. With lithography, where pieces are numbered and owners sell them, you need a good eye so you can show that the paper is perfect.
Three-dimensional piece by late
contemporary Israeli sculptor Miri
Passov.
Have you ever engaged in the artistic process yourself?
I could never be creative. I write a lot — I’ve written almost 500 papers. It’s more that I just have an innate appreciation of art and a certain kind of vision. Occasionally, I see something that speaks to me, and I buy it, even if it’s part of a portfolio. Recently [the British auction house] Christie’s told me that I’d purchased two of the five or six best-known pieces from their book, even though I’d only bought pieces that spoke to me.
Do you think it is unusual for a hematologist to be interested in art?
Not many of my colleagues love art. Plenty of them love music, as do I, especially opera. I think there’s something about music that creates peace. But in general, it is an auditory experience. Doctors already spend their days wearing stethoscopes, listening to people’s chests. I can sit in my living room, surrounded by 15 pieces of art, and it’s fantastic. That said, my passion for practicing medicine is equal to my passion for art.
What would you like to do or achieve in the coming years?
One thing that a career in medicine has taught me is that you can do many things at the same time. I had a busy practice, but I always made sure to go to my kids’ teachers’ conferences, to ball games, to ballet recitals because they grow up and remember what you did as a parent. I turned 89 years old in December, and I still have enormous energy. I’m currently a patron of the Signature Theatre and a major supporter of Goddard Riverside, a community organization that educates indigent kids so they can get into college. We have concerts at home to raise money. I’m a lover of opera and a patron of the New York Metropolitan Opera House. I’ll continue participating in these things.
1978 pop art lithograph by American
painter, sculptor, draftsman, and
printmaker Jasper Johns.
Professionally, my legacy is established. Before I retired, I was considered one of the best diagnosticians at Mount Sinai. I created a major field internationally and lectured all over the world. But at this point in my life, when I travel, I’m no longer thinking about what I’ll be paid; I’m making sure I get to see the Cave of Altamira in Cantabria, Spain, and visit the Prado in Madrid. As for my art collection, my children have developed the love of art as well, so it will be my family’s heritage.
Reference
Toulouse-Lautrec, The Seated Clowness. 1896. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/334094. Accessed September 27, 2023.
