That name, of course, can be imposing—though not as much as the full version of the moniker: Guy-Philippe Lannes de Montebello—and de Montebello’s unflappable self-possession and persistent formality do little to soften the image of him as King Philippe, ruler of the snobs. When he first announced his retirement, New York magazine asked in a headline, WHO’S SNOOTY ENOUGH TO REPLACE PHILIPPE DE MONTEBELLO? and went on to judge the rumored short list of potential successors on a scale of hoity-toity-ness it dubbed the “snootometer.” (Neil MacGregor, director of the British Museum, received the highest score, in part because the magazine found a picture of him pointing to a painting with his pinkie.)
Elitist is a label that de Montebello accepts, but he’s quick to point out that his definition of “elite” has everything to do with achievement and nothing to do with whether one is, like himself, descended on one side from the Marquis de Sade and on the other from one of Napoleon’s favorite generals. “Elite refers to a category of people who have made a conscious decision to improve themselves,” he says. “We all respect people who do the best they can and who want to lift themselves up, and we tend to not respect people who don’t care. They have a slovenly behavior, a slovenly mind, so be it. They’ll not make a very great contribution to mankind.” To his mind, the very act of stepping inside a museum makes one an elitist because it represents a choice to become educated. When he was addressing a group of summer interns a few years ago, one asked what the museum was doing to combat elitism. He recalls responding: “Where are your friends? They’re hanging around outside the drugstore in your neighborhood, wherever that is. You chose to come indoors in the summer and learn about great works of art. That makes you an elitist. You have come to better yourself. That is what elitism is. Do I have to apologize for that?”
Despite his icy reputation, de Montebello, who with his wife of 47 years, Edith, has three children and four grandchildren, has a sense of humor—at times even a schoolboyish one. When asked what he does for fun, for instance, he shoots back, “That can be printed?”
“He’s not a snob in any way,” says one staffer. “He certainly has opinions about what’s appropriate and not appropriate to do in the museum, but it’s from the point of view of ‘Are we advancing the mission of this museum?’ He feels strongly that there are only a few places in the world where we can be in the presence of great art, and he wants to preserve that place for people.”
