Krikor Zambaccian, a name synonymous with refined taste, vision, and passion for art, left an indelible mark on Romanian culture. He was the founder of Romarta, the country’s first art consignment shop, and he opened the doors of his private residence to the public, transforming it into a museum that displayed a lifetime of collected masterpieces. Ironically, and tragically, the world he had admired in vivid colors became inaccessible to him in his later years, when cataracts robbed him of his sight, leaving him blind in front of the very beauty he had cherished.

Childhood and early inspirations

Before collecting paintings, Krikor collected dreams. He was born on February 6, 1889, in Kustenge (today Constanța), a city imbued with the gentle charm of the Orient, where streets led to the sea, sunrises bathed the city in warm light, and sunsets glowed in crimson hues. 

The summer heat was softened only by the sea breeze, while the winter storms evoked the ancient stories of Ovid, when barbarians were defeated by snow and wind. These early impressions, mingled with the scents, sights, and sounds of the coast, became his first treasures.

Krikor grew up on Mircea cel Bătrân Street, in the older part of the city, alongside his brother Onik. His father, Hagop, was an accountant for a textile trading company, while his mother, Anita, was a housekeeper. The modest household, however, could not contain the imagination and curiosity of the boy who would one day become a master collector.

His adolescence brought him to Bucharest, where he completed secondary studies and cultivated his passion for art. He attended matinees at the National Theater and concerts at the Romanian Athenaeum, gradually immersing himself in the world of exhibitions. 

In these galleries, he discovered that human hands could capture nature’s beauty with the same intensity as the world outside the canvas. He observed how different individuals perceived sunsets and sunrises differently, how the mundane act of washing a child could become art, and how a field of flowers could evoke the same emotion as physically standing amid it.

Reflecting on his early years, he later said: “In my adolescence, when I visited exhibitions, I preferred paintings based on their subject matter, the extent to which they evoked a feeling, a mythological scene, a sunny or melancholic landscape.” This early sensibility laid the foundation for his lifelong pursuit of beauty, culminating in the transformation of his own house into a museum.

First encounters with art

Krikor described himself simply: “I was born a collector, as one is born a painter or a poet. I grew up in a house full of old oriental carpets, where precious harmonies of color sang. This is how interiors in the Orient are, and in their souls, the charm of color endures. That is why I have always preferred tonal musicality and never reconciled myself with the linear speculations of Cubist formulas.”

As a high school student, he visited his first painting exhibition in Bucharest: the Tinerimea Artistică exhibition. Later, he pursued university studies in Antwerp, the city of Rubens and Van Dyck, where his passion for color found fertile ground. Around 1907, he discovered Renoir. The luminescence of Renoir’s palette and the Impressionists’ technique left an indelible mark on him, shaping his lifelong preference for bright, optimistic, and cheerful painting.

Upon returning to Constanța, he met Marius Bunescu, also returned from Munich and Paris, and a fellow enthusiast of the Impressionists, especially Claude Monet. Bunescu created several admirable landscapes of Constanța, many of which were tragically lost during the war.

Building a collection

Through Bunescu, Krikor met Ion Theodorescu-Sion, who introduced him to the works of Cézanne and guided him in exploring modern French painting. After World War I, he settled in Bucharest, where he became acquainted with leading Romanian painters such as Iosif Iser, Camil Ressu, Theodor Pallady, and others from the “Arta Română” circle.

His first purchases came at the beginning of the 20th century, funded initially by his father. Visiting the 1906 Jubilee Exhibition at the Palace of Arts, he was captivated by the works of Nicolae Grigorescu and Nicolae Vermont, and he requested 500 lei from his father to acquire them. Over time, he bought art from his own earnings, derived from a family business established by his grandfather Agop Zambaccian in Constanța in 1910.

Krikor was meticulous and deliberate: he purchased works based on their emotional resonance rather than their market value. “I would save part of the money sent by my family for personal expenses and occasionally buy a painting. Often I bought works from young, unknown artists who later became famous.” His collection grew steadily, incorporating the finest works that artists could offer.

Philosophy of collecting

In Zambaccian’s view, collecting was an act of devotion. “In art, there is no bargaining. If I like a painting, I buy it. A poor painting, however cheap, is expensive. And a good painting, no matter how expensive, is cheap.” He once paid 2,300 British pounds for a Cézanne, approximately 2 million lei, asserting that collectors who only acquire established works fail to understand their true calling.

Despite criticism for extravagant spending, he pursued his passion undeterred. “People think it is normal to pay huge sums for a diamond, which is ultimately just a rare mineral, yet they find it abnormal for me to pay the same for a creation by a genius like Renoir, born so rarely.”

His generosity extended to artists as well. He was accused of favoring painters over women, to which he replied: “The works of artists are eternal, while pleasures are fleeting. When asked for a painting, I always refused. Once, I could not resist a blonde and gave her roses, which I later bought back.”

Recognition and Romarta

Zambaccian became as renowned as the works he collected. The press described him as “small, stocky, passionate, possessing more paintings than a museum, with works by Cézanne, Matisse, Renoir, Picasso, Delacroix, Degas, and many Romanian masters.”

After World War II, he innovated again by founding Romarta, Romania’s first art consignment shop, on Calea Victoriei. Here, the public could consign or purchase works, with Zambaccian personally evaluating each piece. 

According to Romeo Haciac, the museum secretary, if a piece stood out for its artistic quality, Zambaccian would bring it home, contemplate it, and decide whether to acquire it. This method reflected his extraordinary discernment, unaffected by the artist’s fame.

The tragedy of blindness

Later in life, cataracts robbed him of his sight. Corneliu Baba, who painted Zambaccian in 1957, recalled: “At night he would go from his bedroom to the rooms where the paintings and sculptures were displayed, tidy them, dust them, and sit in contemplation for hours. Art spoke to him, and he knew how to listen. His later years brought the bitterness of declining health: Parkinson’s and cataracts, the inevitable loss of sight. The greatest punishment for a lover of beauty. Yet beauty remained before the eyes of his mind.”

Journalist Paul Anghel, in 1971, described him vividly: “I see the blind old man traveling with his sons to the empire of our painting, guided by Grigorescu, Andreescu, Petrașcu, and Pallady, supported tenderly by the shoulders of another great sufferer, Ștefan Luchian. They all dwell in a temple in our hearts or in heaven.”

Legacy and museum

Zambaccian’s house became a museum in 1947, shortly after donating his collection to the Romanian state. The inauguration was a grand affair, attended by Prime Minister Petru Groza, Ana Pauker, and cultural dignitaries. 

The street was renamed Muzeul Zambaccian, honoring the donor. The collection included Romanian masters such as Grigorescu, Luchian, Petrașcu, Iser, Ressu, Tonitza, Andreescu, and foreign luminaries including Delacroix, Degas, Matisse, Renoir, and Cézanne.

Despite his wealth and status, Zambaccian lived modestly in the museum’s upper floor, relying on two caretakers. Meals were frugal, and his daily life reflected simplicity and discipline, leaving room for the contemplation of art.

Over time, the museum was closed (1977–1992), and the collection was moved to the Museum of Art Collections, only returning to the Zambaccian house in 1996. Restoration and consolidation occurred in 2008, though some works and books were irretrievably lost.

Krikor Zambaccian’s life embodies the tension between human frailty and the timeless nature of art. He was a man who devoted himself entirely to collecting, preserving, and promoting beauty, even as his own eyes failed him. His story is a testament to the enduring power of passion, vision, and cultural legacy, showing that while the body may falter, the mind and soul can continue to experience the profound richness of art.

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