THE BEGINNING:  THIS IS HOW I BEGAN TO WRITE THIS ARTICLE

For long time, I have been thinking about writing a release, a sort of an essay on this fascinating man called de La Croix, more accurately Jean Maximillien de La Croix de Lafayette (his full name) but, I was uncertain as to where and how to begin, because of the complexity of his mind, genius and achievements in so many areas, disciplines, lines of work and professions. 

He is so multi-dimensional and extremely accomplished in so many fields to a point where I had to stop and  think  for a while, take a deep breath now and then, and work out a plan of action, a sort of writing, composing and editing system to describe the man, his work and particularly to come to comprehend what he represents to us. My original interest and reason for doing a piece on de La Croix was specifically to introduce him as De La Croix “L’Artiste”. But, the more I learned about him, the more I read about him and the more I read about what he wrote in his own books, the more I felt his humility, modesty, generosity, the goodness of his heart, the more undecided I became on how to start, approach and finish the article.

Frustrated and encouraged, eager to finish the piece and  fearing to miss a particular fascinating and hidden aspect of his life, personality and character, I rushed to my keyboard to draw the blue prints of the article before I change my mind on how to write the piece and most certainly before I forgot or missed some details that I had previously collected about him. So, I decided to divide the article into the following parts, and believe me it was not so easy:

Ride Your Fantasia by de La Croix. Rare reproduction never published before. Assumed lost or stolen. Circa 1984, Paris

Rare painting by de La Croix, never printed or displayed before. Assumed lost or stolen in 1984.

MAXIMILLIEN: THE MAN OF CONTROVERSY, DELIGHTFUL MADNESS AND 1000 SURPRISES_____

De La Croix's exhilarating passion to live life and his incredible ability to astound, amaze, amuse and entertain us are just of the few of the things that set him apart and make him so unique.  "Mad Max" as the media and dearest friends call him, is the epitome of a spring inside a box, the quintessence of the Court Jester!  As de La Croix himself would say:  "Laissez les bon temps rouler!"   {Let the good times roll!}  By now, it should not shock or surprise you to know that as a boy, de La Croix ran away from home to join the remnant (s) of  Cirque Medrano in Paris.  Every child’s dream realized!  For three months time, he stayed with the circus and preformed as a Clown, consequently creating and inciting a wave of scandals in his wake and causing the expected and appropriate amount of embarrassment to his family, aristocratic milieu and relatives! 

MAXIMILLIEN MADE THE LIST OF THE “MOST UNWANTED PEOPLE”_________________________

There was the time when de La Croix was sent as a participant in a Cultural International Exchange Program to under developed countries, tutoring the natives of the remote villages in French and other foreign language skills.  As the months passed, funds exhausted, his assignment came to an end.  Curiously, no one was able to communicate with the natives...obviously and apparently, the program was not the success that they had anticipated...but why-o-why were the natives not learning???  They would soon find out. Yes, you guessed it!  de La Croix was the source of the mischief...

Upon his return to France, Maximillien found a large sign posted below his name on the door of his office that read:  "DE LA CROIX- - -FIRED!!!"  Smugly smiling to himself, he didn't mind one bit and graciously thanked his superiors for the experience-speaking now in the native tongue of the country from which he had just returned-which only served to infuriate them all the more!  You see, rather than teaching foreign languages-as was required of him on his mission-no matter where he traveled, he learned the natives' languages!  Instead of being "the teacher," de La Croix had became "the student!"

This is Maximillien’s elaboration on the story:

“The Department of Education and Ministry of Foreign Affairs thought that by teaching the natives in foreign colonies our language and way of life, the regime would be able to control the colons in the foreign territories and colonies. So, they hand picked some teachers of sociology, history and languages in order to send them or probably “shipped them abroad” to do the job. I was one of those chosen miserable teachers. My role was to teach the colonials or colons, French and French culture. Perfect!

The government had a limited budget and the government people made it very clear to me that the government is not rich, they are lacking money…that I should not waste their time and their money. In brief, teach those people French, as soon as possible. Great!

I left Paris en route to foreign lands. Upon my arrival to those magnificent lands, I fell in love with the nature, color of the skies and ocean water…and trees leaves…and the soil…everything. It was magical to me. And, it did not take me long, before I fell in love with the natives.  I loved those people so much, so much from all my heart and soul, to a point, where, I had to learn everything about them. Where do I begin? Of course, being a linguist, I began to learn their own language. So I did. Instead of teaching them French as I was supposed to or “ maybe” as it was instructed to do, I spent government time learning their own language. The government was spending money on the mission and covering the expenses of the expedition to diffuse the French language worldwide, but in fact, they were spending their money on me being there, doing nothing, except learning foreign languages and dialects. So, the beautiful poor natives did not learn a word of French.

So, what do you expect from our bureaucrats and politicians back home to do the first thing when they saw my ugly face? FIRE THE SON OF A GUN, and they did! This is exactly what happened. Later, and for years, I was unable to find a job in the government or even get a small grant for some of my cultural and artistic projects. And of course, I was placed on the black list of the MOST UNWANTED PEOPLE. Yes, sir.”

KICKED OUT OF THE MONASTERY, PERSONA NON GRATA_________________________________

One of the biggest unfortunate mistakes Maximillien’s parents made, was when they decided to send him to the Jesuit Seminary School to become a priest! Can you imagine that? Maximillien?!  A Priest?!!!

Well, this how the story goes and as told by “Reverend” Maximillien himself. “There are some traditions and customs “some” European families observe very diligently. For instance, it is a common knowledge that “respectable families” in France should “produce” and give to the country and the society “good children”. And!!!! HA HA!!! Wait a minute… this is NOT the only criteria and social pre-requisite; some of those children better be or become a general in the army, a lawyer, a physician, an architect or a bishop, a prince of the Catholic church! So asking myself  “What are my choices?” I had no idea or any answer to that question. I just wanted to be or become what I like to be or become. Back then, young and incorrigible, I want to be nothing and have fun! But, this was not what my parents had in mind. My parents thought that sending me to a seminary was a very good idea. Boy-ya-boy! What a very bad idea this was! My uncle Guy told my aunt Penelope: “I cannot see Maxime as a military man. He does not take orders very well. He is disobedient, a rebel by nature since he was born, he will be a catastrophe for the army. Probably, he will end up making a revolution or a coup d’etat.”  As to my aunt Penelope who had a great influence on my parents…well, she was not either very much happy about sending me to a law school. She told my mother Alexandra: “It is hard for me to see Maxime as a traditional lawyer in any court in any civilized country. Instead of defending people and getting them out of jail, probably, he will end up in jail, every time he will show up before a judge. How about a medical school? Oh non…non…non…very bad idea. Although, he is very caring and affectionate, he would probably spend all his time shmoozing and cruising the nurses and telling them stories…well, let’s think…how about sending him to engineering school? What do you think Alexandra?” My other aunt Laure interrupted her to add:” Are you crazy Penelope? Maximillien? An architect? Mon Dieu! No building in Paris will stand still! Ship him to a “ priests school” and lock him up there until he forgets how the world was built. I love this kid, this little devil to death, he is so bright but, Mon Dieu, he is incorrigible, a trouble maker…Voila, I can see  “Mon Maximillien” as a good, a very good priest.” My uncle Guy interrupted her and screamed: “ What a goofy idea, Laure! What did they do to you those poor priests to send Maximillien to them!?” We have to find something…some sort of a school, a remote camp on a deserted island or a some other place for this kid but, NOT a seminary “Jamais De La Vie!”. It was alright with me. I wanted them to fight among each others, as hard and as long as possible and never to agree on anything, so I would enjoy a long ride and stay at home for as long as possible… Unfortunately, they were fast on agreeing on something bizarre and finally, all of them came up with one single and mortal idea …a very, very bad choice, and that choice, you probably guess it, the “PRIESTHOOD”!

Maximillien continues: “Here, I am, at the front door of the monastery. I used to like and admire those magnificent cathedrals, the imposing and majestic facades of churches and monasteries, the towers, the balconies, the huge bells, the big, very big wall and ramparts stones, everything about those “religious” buildings and edifices but, now, here, at the front door of the monastery, about ready  to get in and never to get out, and remembering what my aunt Laure once said :” ship him to a priests school and lock him up there until he forgets how the world was built”, yes sir, here at the doorstep of the monastery, nothing appeared to me uglier and more frustrating than all those magnificent buildings that I had loved so much in the past. They looked terrible to me and probably I looked terrible to them. I was admitted. Properly introduced to the abbot. And Au Revoir Gay Paris! Bye-Bye! The very first two hours went well. No problem. But, I kept looking at the first and nearest exit.

The problems began 3 days later. I became fed up with the food. The same damned boiled potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, even on Sunday. Puree potatoes or mashed potatoes for breakfast at 5:30 am. Boiled or steamed potatoes for lunch at 1:00 pm. Baked or sautéed potatoes for dinner. And if you are still hungry and you manage to get out of the dormitory without awaking up the snoring novices and sneak into the kitchen to steal some food…and slowly… slowly… carefully…silently you open the doors of the refrigerators to grab something….two or three big uncooked heads of potatoes will jump in your face…they are staring at you…wherever you go, there are potatoes…all kinds of them! So I got fed up.

I began to confuse the novices with ideas and plans and incite them to rebel against the potatoes conspiracy… the abbot…the priests… everybody, you name it. I hated those potatoes.  It was a potatoes conspiracy alright! The father superior and the monks found out about how I felt about those potatoes and my counter-conspiracy. They issued me one warning, later to be followed by so many. One week later, I began to feel very bored and physically tired. The abbot will tell you otherwise. To him, I was mentally tired and religiously bankrupt. Anyway, I began to think about ways and means to make money so I can and get out of this lock-up. I began to strengthen my friendship ties with one or two of the monastery drivers in charge of buying and delivering groceries, goods as well as those ugly potatoes to the refectory and kitchens. I had plans for that. Once I felt that I have totally gained their sympathy, I began to initiate them to a great business plan, which will generate a lot of money. Simultaneously, I was discussing my plans with four or five not so bright novices who finally agreed to carry out and execute my plans. We are in business! We are in the flowers business. Big time. So I thought and the little I knew!

The monastery had beautiful gardens, full of roses, gardenia trees, “cyclamen” and a wide variety of flowers and roses. I kept looking at those roses, and those roses kept looking at me. I had to do something about those roses. They were my only way out. Without those beautiful roses looking at me, I had no chance to get out of my misery.

All my gang and contra-band conspirators were convinced that, primo, it was not a sin against God and the Catholic Church and the fathers and the brothers and the father superior to steal a little bit…a tiny-liny-winy bunch of roses from this sad garden and sell it at the nearby market in the village, because part of the revenues will go directly to the refectory and kitchens operations, so the head cook will have enough money to buy a better quality food and throw out those bloody, God damned potatoes once and for good. Secundo: Hey, after all, we are not stealing from foreigners or people we do not know. We are just taking a few stuff from ourselves, since all of us were members of the same family. This what everybody thought except “me”. I had one thing on my mind. Sell those damned roses, get me a few Francs and get the hell out of this place as fast and as soon as possible.

The flowers operation began on Monday evening by cutting the roses and hiding them in big water jars behind the church depot where no body goes except the drivers I have recruited for this mission. On Tuesday afternoon, we continued the second phase of the operation: Keep on cutting more roses. On Wednesday at 4:00 am, the third phase of the operation: Get up early before any body else. Wrap the roses. Get them in the camion (an old miserable truck from world war one and may be much, much earlier). Go back to sleep, as if nothing happened. Wednesday at 7:00 pm, is the time for the last phase of the operation: Jump in the truck and take off full speed en route to the market. Meet with the merchants, sell the roses, get paid and returned to my most favorite place in the world, “The Monastery”. (Yeah right!!!) On Thursday, early, early, as early as possible, flee the monastery! So we did.

It is Wednesday, 7:00 pm. Everybody is hiding in the truck and so are the roses. With the beloved roses we drove out. Hit the road. Got to the market. Ready to meet with the merchants and cash in. The driver Pierre-Robert suggested that it is safer and more profitable to meet first with the man who is in charge of the whole sales distribution, before we meet with the small guys. Done. I thought it was a great idea. I regret it later! Pierre-Robert showed the way. He said to me: “Voila, go there, go talk to the old man, he is in the office. Make a good deal for us, we will be waiting for you here.”. I went there. I entered the office or sort of an office to strike a deal. And who do I see standing by the fireplace and waiting for me? The monastery’s Father Superior and two bloody monks! None of the not-so-bright novices who recently entered the monastery and joined my operation, including myself, knew that drivers at the monastery are usually and always monks or priests, and that Mister Pierre-Robert was nobody else than Father Pierre-Robert! I was kicked out of the monastery the very following day at 7:00 am, never to return again.

It took the Church people half of a century to forget about the flowers operation, another half of a century to change their mind and opinion of me. But, later, me and the Church we have become brother and sister.

I became very involved with the work of the missionaries in Africa and in under developed countries and I enjoyed every single day I spent with them in those foreign lands, every time they allowed me to do so, or every time I was honored by their most welcomed invitations, but……… always and in advance, they took  all the needed precautions and necessary measures not to let me see or pass by a rose garden!”

MAXIMILLIEN NEEDED A MIRACLE…AND THE SHOW MUST GO ON! ________________________________________________________________________________________

Asking Maximillien if he had ever encountered difficult or embarrassing moments and experiences in life, he smiled, paused for a wile and said “Almost on a daily basis”. But, the experience, he would never forget is the one he had 73 hours before his show opened on stage at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C., USA.

This is how, Maximillien told the story.

“Everything was going so smooth and without any trouble. I had a great team of the most brilliant people in show biz who diligently and with a great love worked for months and months on preparing, designing, overseeing, rehearsing and pre-producing  “Marmara The Gypsy: The Story of Baroness Myriam de Rozska”, a world premiere musical melodrama I wrote, composed and directed at the Kennedy Center. We have been rehearsing every single night of the week for almost 3 months in Washington, D.C. and Maryland, and getting ready to open within 2 days. Ms. Sonya Wagner, my musical director, Dr. Evans, the orchestra conductor, Sam Mcloud, the arranger, Marty Rae, the production director, Mrs. Boray of Turkey, the dance choreographer, Peter Fannelli, the Lighting and Special Effects director, Mrs. Tehmina Khan of Pakistan, the wardrobe and costumes designer, Mrs. Tatiana Demian, the head Make-Up artist, you name it, everybody was pleased and ready to open the show, until an unexpected tragedy hit us all. A dramatic and most fatal incident that will kill the show and the whole production for good!

Two days, before the show opens and while rehearsing for the last time before the on-stage-dress rehearsal, one of the co-stars of the play quit all of a sudden! He just walked out! Being a minor, a 10 year old boy (extremely talented and winner of several awards), his mother was waiting for him in his dressing room. Astonished and confused, I followed the kid to his dressing room…I wanted to know why is he quitting? As soon as I entered the room, his mother approached me just to tell him that her son is quitting unless I pay them more money…right now…this very moment…and cash! Marty Rae followed me, so did other performers. I let only Marty walk in, not anybody else, fearing gossips, rumors, talks, tabloid scandals or simply fearing that this incident may disorganize and confuse my performers. There were hundreds, over 250 dancers, singers, actors and actresses, some of them may not take well the heat. The kid’s mother insisted on cashing more money, that night, 2 days before the show opens on stage. Marty, a very bright, pragmatic, very diplomatic and experienced director in show business tried to make a deal…to compromise. I categorically refused to make any deal with the kid or his mother! I felt that this was a cheap shot; a betrayal, a threat, a black mail! A stabbing in the back…Politely, I asked the kid and his mother to leave. They did not expect this from me. Marty, with his New York accent said verbatim: ”Maxi, no kid, no show, you know that, what do you want to do now? Where are you going to find another kid…Jesus, we need a professional actor who is a 10 year old! And…if we get lucky and find somebody good, tomorrow let’s say…. how is he going to learn 50 pages of script in one day?! When the curtains hit the deck we are dead meat! Not yet Maxi, not yet…think…think…think big boy…do something…otherwise, hey, we have to start refunding all those people! My God, Max, it is a sold-out performance! We sold everything!”

Maximillien continues: “I went home that night with a cold fever. I was afraid, furious, chagrined, disappointed, but not totally defeated. I knew, there is no way in the world, one can pull out a professional 10 year old stage actor from under his sleeves, make him memorize 50 pages, appear on stage without rehearsal, at one of the most prestigious theater of the world! The Kennedy Center for God’s sake! All that in 24 hours?! It is IMPOSSIBLE! Nobody can do it. I knew it. But, also knew that miracles happen…I remembered what Napoleon once wrote: “There is no such word as “impossible” in my dictionary”. Of course, I remembered what everybody in show biz says: “THE SHOW MUST GO ON!”.

  The very next day, at 7:00 am, I began to work on a plan. Nobody knew for sure about the tragedy except Mrs. Wagner, Peter Fannelli (What a Great Guy! The best of the best lights and stage effect designers) and Marty.

At 7:30 am, Mrs. Wagner and Marty showed up. Peter joined us in the library. We sat silently. We did not know what to say to each other. All of a sudden, I froze in time and space….I froze, because an unbelievable idea traveling at the speed of light hit me. I stood up and exploded in laughter and I remember having said this: “I got it…I got the kid…I got the KID! The show goes on.”

It is 8:45 am. My secretaries and script assistants, Cynthia Greaves, Valery Assenjo, Kitty and Ticker just checked in. Boom! I called them at once, asked Marty to tell them what happened…I gave them a few minutes to breath and calm down and VOILA, the crazy idea of mine exploded in the air. I asked everybody in the room to grab a phone and start calling every single drama, acting, performing coach and instructor at any and all local studios, academies, training centers, high schools, nurseries, you name it…call all of them, call all the directors and drama teachers to find out if any of them have a 10 year old kid who can act.

We jammed the phone lines. We called every single school in town. We phoned every single drama teacher in high schools, in colleges and wherever it was possible to find them, but, NO LUCK!

It is getting late. It is almost 5: 00 pm. In less than 50 hours, the show must open. The kid’s role is major. The whole story rotates around him. He is the co-star of the play. All of a sudden at exactly 5:15 pm, Valery ran toward me shouting: “Max, I got a kid”, followed by Cynthia, with tears in her eyes, she hardly could say “Monsieur Maximillien, Good News, Merci Dieu, we have somebody but he is too small”. …and a third call came to Kitty…YAP! Another kid was available! I got on the phone and spoke to the three high school drama teachers who are still on the line waiting…and begged them to come over right away after I have briefly explained what had happened to us. They were delighted because, this was a rare opportunity for them and for any of their students to appear on a major theater, especially at the Kennedy Center. Up to this moment, nobody in my office…nobody in the room knew what I was doing. Marty said to me: “So, it’s okay, you found three kids, they will audition and you chose one, and then what?” Forty-five minutes later, the three kids showed up with their teachers. I asked each of the teachers to wait with the kid they brought along in a separate room. I asked Cynthia to get me a copy of the script, called Valery and Marty to walk with me in the corridors leading to the rooms where the kids were seated with their drama teachers. Upon arriving at the door of the first room, I asked Cynthia to hand me over the script. I took the script, ripped the very first 15 pages of the script which corresponded to the role the kid was supposed to play in Act One…I gave it to the first kid and told him: “start memorizing those pages!  Don’t ask questions”! I continued to room two…ripped another 15 pages and gave them to the kid in room two and told him the same thing: “start memorizing those pages”! I reached the last room and ripped the last remaining 20 pages and gave them to the kid in room 3. Each kid had to memorize only 15 pages! Yes, sir. Just 15 pages! I told every body in the room about my plan…I knew a kid could memorize 15 pages in 40 hours. And they did. We worked all night long on training those three kids, rehearsing and rehearsing...with Peter Fannelli’s genius, we were able to change the lighting design, gels, filters to avoid any intense and very exposed light spots on 3  DIFFERENT KIDS PLAYING THE SAME ROLE… We called our make-up artists to rush to my office to see what kind of make up those three kids needed to look alike on stage, or at least, not to look “very” different…not look like 3 different kids! I called the costumes assistant designer to arrange, alter or fix the suits and outfits of the three kids…Thank’s God, we were lucky, all of them had the same height and weight, almost…but, one of the three was noticeably shorter than the others! It took people and some of my associates and one lady who accompanied me to a show on Broadway fifteen years to know what I did to that kid to make him look taller! The very next day, three of them returned to my office for a final conference. They looked good. I felt better. The same day at 7:30 the curtains lifted up. The Show began! The show rolled…Three different kids performed the same role…the same part, as if they were one. And nobody noticed it…nobody knew about it except those who were in my office, and the kids themselves- of course! I think???? I learned it the hard way. Few things in life I dislike. Few things I rebel against. Betrayal, Threats, Ultimatum and Black mail are on the top of my list…

Some fifteen years later, I went to New York to see a Broadway musical. And something hit me. I looked once again at the names of the stars of the show in the program stage bill, laughed, turned to my lady companion and said:” You see this big star…this tall  guy on stage…  I knew him once upon a time when he was much, much shorter…until I stuffed his shoes with Cynthia’s bra padding and French toast to make him look taller…almost as tall as the two other kids.”

She had no clues what I was talking about.

MAXIMILLIEN…THE BIG HEART…_________________________________________________________

Maximillien’s heart is bigger than the world we live in.He continues to donate so much and so generously to numerous charities, orphanages and organizations for neglected and hungry children, Christian missionaries in Africa, etc.

Not only does he contribute to countless charitable and humanitarian causes, Maximillien is a man who gives financially, as well as a man who is not afraid to roll up his sleeves, get his hands dirty and give of his time, from his heart. If Maximillien earns a penny, Maximillien donates a penny. 

As the homeless line the walks of Wisconsin Avenue and M streets in Washington, D.C., with consideration and respect, Maximillien was known for personally preparing, cooking and serving 5 star cuisine to his less fortunate friends. On many occasions, at the end of the evening, he would gather those who had set up camp on the near by streets, shivering in the sleet or the snow under a card-board box, to invite them to cross over Key Bridge and spend a dignified night in the comfort of his own home. Twice, he was nearly arrested for automobile theft while driving his Silver Shadow Rolls Royce when a police patrol car signaled him to stop. He did. The police officer approached and asked Maximillien and his passengers (6 or 7 homeless, unshaven, hungry looking guys…) to step outside, one-at-the time. Obviously, the police officer suspected that the driver and the occupants could not possibly be the high profile, class owners of a Rolls Royce! The lot of them, including Max, looked homeless! The truth be told, they were “very” homeless. It goes with out saying that the police officer was absolutely sure that this gang of hoodlums stole the Rolls! Asked by the police officer to show identification, Maximillien - with a great smile – provided the pertinent documents, some of which were very impressive. You should have seen the look on the face of the officer when he enthusiastically exclaimed:  “Man-o-man!  Max?!  Is that really you?! Hey buddy!!”  And so it was off into the night the band of merry gypsies-bandidos went…

AND NOW ENTER THE MAGICAL METAPHYSICAL WORLD OF MAXIMILLIEN AND HIS ART_______

I invite you to stroll through The Gallery of Maximillien de La Croix and allow him to take you along on this journey called life.  You will surpass the range and grasp of human experience, reason and belief, as you step into his world - where there is no such thing as the status-quo, the norm, the predictable, the usual, the expected - and join us on his wild adventures, where you will inhale the words on the page, hear the colors sing and see the notes dance.

...Musing on de La Croix, it takes no conscious effort at all to lose ones' self in the abstract kaleidoscope of his colorful brilliance and many talents. Indeed, de La Croix is an elegant, sophisticated, educated man of exceptional accomplishments...an aristocrat.

At first, I could not shake the feeling that de La Croix was some sort of a mystic messenger - a spirit traveler between realms - sent to remind us that our waking world is a hologram - our life, the illusion - and that this experience is meant to be characterized with such vivid brilliance and dazzling authenticity that the reality of our normal waking world is to be transcended and seriously called into question...

...As I pondered, I thought: “Voila!  THAT is precisely the true essence of art!!!” de La Croix is a talent who does not do what he does for the fame and the fortune - for him, the accolades are merely "the frosting on the cake" - de La Croix does what he does for the true love of it. As we view his canvases, we are granted entree' and given permission to embrace our illusions, break them down, or switch back-and-forth-and-back again.

Gaze through the mirror blue - or more accurately - CRASH through the looking glass - into the essence of the multi-dimensional de La Croix.  Delve deep into his soul and you will find a simple man who desires to be acknowledged, appreciated and respected for who he is, what he thinks and what he feels, in addition to what he does for a living. Clever, witty, charming, fun, wild, unconventional, eccentric, sensitive, kind, gentle, loyal, honest, generous and humble...this is the real man behind the magical canvases.

You are cordially invited to explore moods and states of awareness here that may be new to you. Given the frontiers that you will cross, you may need to open your mind - your imagination - in order to understand what is happening.  Explore the ability to sing and weep simultaneously, to find a comfortable place where you are partially in darkness and partially illuminated, or half in shadow and half in sunlight, to laugh uproariously and exclaim "a-ha!" simultaneously, a surge of uncanny intuitions that comes while waking up from sleep or ignorance...

Once inside the prism - which enables time to stop, allowing for us a brief glimpse into a rainbow up close - you will see places and meet people you may have only imagined in the many facets of your dreams.  Though the artist's eyes, hand in hand we will skip through the ancient streets of Athens or Red Square, feel the salty sea breezes as they gently caress our cheek on the shores of Corsica, smile as we remember Praha and Budapest nights, observe children as they frolic and picnic on a hillside in the South of France and know the serenity of the peaceful Buddhist Monks in prayer.   Simply and succinctly put, to know the man behind the canvases is to feel that the high light of the evening is when Maximillien de La Croix de Lafayette walks into the room - to shine and share - the low point is when the door closes behind him... 

I hope that you have enjoyed the journey with me…with father superior at the monastery of the roses…the three kids on stage…and  Maximillien.

An Art Rebel? No doubt, and a great one!

Once he wrote “People might think that De La Croix already made a fortune in the art business, so why should he work harder or become more involved in art? The truth is…I carry art in my heart wherever I go. Even, when I am gardening, I touch and feel the beauty and artistic raw shapes of the stones and rocks I work with, that I carry and I lay out around the  flowers bed edges in my garden. In those rocks, I see and appreciate the divine art work and  immaculate sculpture  of nature. There is art wherever you look in the universe, if you care to look, to appreciate and to love. This is art for me.

I rebelled against some of the most visible, powerful, arrogant and snobbish art establishments and a handful of powerful and fancy art dealers, glossy galleries owners and “artistically dangerous and harmful” museums curators, because I am fully aware of their deals and intrigues…and self serving “devotion-image” for the world of art! They made me know every trick, deal and wheel in the art business. If you are not one of them, you will never get a show, you will never sell, you will never be written up in their papers and you…………..will never make it!

So many mediocre artists became world famous and so many wonderful talented artists are still unknown and starving to death because of them! I do not need those “chocolat-au-lait” art dealers and wheelers! I was lucky, strong and determined to make it big. I made it my own way, sometime alone, sometime with a little help and support from my friends, sometime with hard work, pain, hope and despair, determination , other time with sorrow and fear to fail, almost all the time but, I made it big without their help and they dislike me for it! Still, they call on me from time to time and try to strike a deal!

I am for the small guy, the small talented artist, the underdog, this great talented unfortunate starving artist on the streets of New York, in the dark alleys of Washington, DC, behind forgotten walls and sleepy pubs in Dublin, in  nostalgic narrow romantic streets in Montmartre,  this most creative and helpless street artist around the side walk cafes in Paris looking at you every time you pass by him, by his easel, by the  wooden old box of brushes and paints he left on the side walk near his apron, and he wonders why you don’t buy anything from him, because he knows he is  good  and his paintings are cheap!

Why an artist should starve? Don’t tell me “ce sont les risques du métier”. Why artists should have hard time making a living? Why art, acting, dancing, performing, painting, even teaching art, why  professions in the art  in general are not secure , financially stable? Because those big shots in high places in the artistic ivory towers don’t care! No artist  should starve. Especially when one’s has talent, creativity and beauty in the soul, in the way she or he feels, talks, dreams, laughs, cries, welcomes you at the door of her or his house…and especially when she or he talks to the brushes, to the tubes of paints she or he buys only when they are on sale, to the canvas dying to be covered with strokes, curves, paints, sweat, tears and the smoke of her or his “gitane” cigarettes. Yes, call me a rebel against those “grand seigneurs”. I am not  for the fancy arrogant art dealer in an Armani suit at Georges Cinq or at a Manhattan “Petit-Four-Champagne-Art Gallery”.

De La Croix continues “ Have you visited lately some of our great modern art museums?

If you have, you should know by now just by looking at the mediocre quality of some of the art exhibited there, that something tricky is happening behind doors, that deals are made, and many interests not in the interest of the art have been served. Just go and look around at those museums. It is alarming. I saw one large canvas exhibited at one of our most prestigious modern art museums in America. This canvas was enormous, almost 20 feet by 15 feet. It had a white background and just one or two black strokes on it. Guess now, how much did they pay for that painting? Over 2 million Dollars! And you do not want me to rebel against them!?

Another famous guy in New York just sold last year a 2 feet by 3 feet canvas for over one million Dollars. He just grabbed a stick, dipped it in red, orange and purple colors, drew a few circular lines on the canvas and VOILA, the masterpiece is born. A week later, glowing articles appeared about him in some of our leading newspapers. They hailed the new genius of the modern art…the great abstract artist of the decade. The  painting was sold overnight for $1,300.000 ! I do not believe in drilling two three holes in a house paint bucket and swing it over a canvas to make a painting! Some “geniuses” did, and somebody….some big shots in the art community cashed on it. Unfortunately, the so-called “ great artist” did not live long enough to collect! They bought his art for approximately $2,000 and after his death, they sold it for over $2 Millions!……………………………………………

A rebel? Yes, I am. Big  time  rebel. Rebel against those kind of people!” This  was written by de La Croix in 1980. Has he changed? I am not so sure! For years, he did not paint. He refused to “mingle” with the Martini-Fake French Accent Art Dealers…he turned down all  exhibitions offers….he just faded away for years. It took Solange Berthier, his dear friend  and Mr. Theodore Marlins, a trusted associate, seven years to convince de La Croix to return to the world of art and paint again. Fortunately, he is back, and he is as active as ever. Yet, he remains cautious, quite distant, and prepared for all kinds of surprises and “deals”! De La Croix repeated to me what once he told Solange Berthier, his dear friend and European agent  who sold his work for millions and millions of Dollars worldwide, long time before he came to the United States: “Do you want to become and remain among the wealthiest, the most productive, the happiest and the most successful  people  in your business? If yes, then, keep low profile, stay cool, don’t let people know much about you, refuse all honors, do not deprive others from their share or a fair competition, and ABOVE ALL stay put and don’t steal the show. Be the world’s most  INCOGNITO CALM SILENT STRATEGIST. Count your gold bars in the dark.”

This is exactly what he did with his art business and so many other businesses of his for years and years. Up to now (But No Longer in the Dark…) he remained one of the world’s most successful, silent, cautious, fame “avoiders” and best seller artists on the international market, refusing all kinds of promotion, publicity, propaganda and as he- so correctly and wisely put it- safe and out of “NOISY AND DANGEROUS HIGH TRAFIC IN THE PUBLIC EYE”. Once you browse through this website, you will find out who in the  world’s “who’s who” buys and vividly collects his artwork. You will be amazed. We took the liberty to mention their names under the painting (s) they purchased from de La Croix agents. His artwork collectors list and the “1979 MVC Roster” include members of royal families, aristocrats, heads of states, tycoons, international superstars, leaders, noted art experts and world celebrities, yet, he managed to remain the wise, calm and “SAFE SUCCESSFUL INCOGNITO SILENT ARTIST/BUSINESSMAN” for a very long time. If you visit the website of the Goldstein Collection and Goldsmith Art Museum Group, you will learn about the fortune, art collectors and dignitaries spend on buying his canvases.

The Solange Berthier & Associates/Salon de L’Art Moderne 1999 website once posted/ displayed approximately 350 paintings of De La Croix which were completely sold in a very short time and almost 15 large canvases were silently pre-sold to world’s celebrities before even the show ever started… and everybody knew about it!  And nobody knew about it! This is just a glimpse into the confusing, successful and secretive prismatic world of de La Croix’s art. He does not go to dealers and galleries owners, they come to him.“ When you have the right name,” Solange  said “ you get the right deal.”

Long time before he arrived to the United States, his agents and art dealers had already sold a large inventory of his artwork worth over 20 million Dollars. Maximillien does not talk much about his art. Instead, he chooses to talk about subjects very dear to his heart such as: Poetry, theater, music, world travel, American culture, European history, gardening, wisdom and philosophy of the Orient, and particularly  about the years he spent studying Zen, Chan, Noi Cun and Flowers Arrangements under his venerable teachers in the Orient ( Sokes, Senseis and Sifus). He is fond of wild life and nature. He has a most affectionate attachment and love toward animals. But, to begin with, I will be sailing on the immense ocean of his other facets, aspects, sides, achievements, publications, adventures, genius and delightful madness of the man.

If you are interested in reviewing additional art-work of de La Croix, we do strongly encourage you to visit:

A man of the world? Is he?

Most certainly. He visited 42 countries, lived and worked in the western and eastern  hemispheres for over 15 years.

He wrote  a considerable number of books on world culture, characteristic features, qualities, strengths and weaknesses of natives including Americans, the world’s best and worst places and people, their religions, traditions, taboos, universities, way of life and life styles. For writing and completing  his work on  socio-politico-philosophical studies and statistics, De La Croix and his correspondents around the globe interviewed over 100, 000 persons for each specific subject and area of study. Those findings, research and analysis on the people of the world appeared in major international best sellers of his, to name a few:

Below, you will find  some of Maximillien’s books and encyclopedias reviews as posted on various and several websites on the Internet. The following pages were  copied/cut/pasted directly  from the website of ALL BOOK STORES. COM., while others were taken from “Books in Print” and various sources. They contain  very informative synopsis/reviews of the books of Maximillien, and most certainly, they will help us  understand the great mind of this man and  explore the infinity and immensity of the wealth of his knowledge and the subjects/topics he brought to life or discussed with pragmatic analysis and imposing depth.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Page copied from the Website: http://www.allbookstores.com

Author:Jean M. De LaFayette,

Caroline Rodgers (Editor), Marna R. Wells (Editor)                     

Format:           Hardcover                                                     

Published:      1991                                                  

ISBN:  0939893134                                                 

List Price:       $30.00                                                           

Pages:  186                                                                  

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