Epic Walking Tours’ Village Variety Walking Tour visits Getrude Vanderbilt Whitney’s art studio and MacDougal Alley.
When the Titanic sank in the early hours of April 15, 1912, the disaster sent shockwaves through the highest ranks of New York society. The ship carried some of the wealthiest and most influential people of the era—John Jacob Astor IV who lived on 840 Fifth Avenue, Benjamin Guggenheim of 15 East 72nd Street, and Isidor Straus of 2747 Broadway—all of whom perished in the icy waters of the North Atlantic. J.P. Morgan and Milton Hershey had tickets, but did not board due to other commitments. Less widely known, however, is the near involvement of members of the Vanderbilt family, including relatives of Greenwich Village artist Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney.
Gertrude’s brother, Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt, had considered booking passage on the Titanic, but canceled after being advised by family—reportedly his sister-in-law Margaret Emerson Vanderbilt—that a maiden voyage might carry too many risks. Their uncle, George Washington Vanderbilt, also canceled his trip at the last minute. His luggage was already aboard the ship, but he was not. Both men narrowly escaped.
Alfred Vanderbilt would not be so lucky three years later. In 1915, he was killed when the Lusitania, a British ocean liner, was torpedoed by a German U-boat during World War I. His death underscored the persistent dangers of transatlantic travel in the early 20th century.
These close calls and personal losses stirred deep emotions in Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney. Already an established sculptor and one of the few women of her class to pursue an independent artistic career, she responded by participating in a national effort to commemorate the tragedy. In the wake of the Titanic’s sinking, a group of American women quickly organized to create a memorial honoring the men who gave up their places on lifeboats so that women and children might survive. Of the 2,223 people aboard, only 706 were saved. Among the 531 women and children, about 70% survived; by contrast, only about 20% of the men lived.
Gertrude entered a national competition to design the Titanic Memorial in Washington, D.C. Her design won the competition and her involvement reflected her desire to use art as a means of public remembrance and civic expression. The final memorial was unveiled in 1931, featuring a male figure with arms outstretched, symbolic of the self-sacrifice shown by so many men during the disaster.
At the time, Whitney was also deeply embedded in the cultural life of Greenwich Village. In 1907, she purchased a former hayloft at 19 MacDougal Alley, which she transformed into her personal studio. Over the years, she acquired adjacent properties, slowly assembling a compound that would become the nucleus of the Whitney Museum of American Art, which she officially founded in 1931.
Her Greenwich Village studio, tucked behind West Eighth Street, became a gathering place for American artists—many of whom struggled to find recognition in an art world still obsessed with European traditions. Whitney used her wealth and influence to promote contemporary American art, hosting exhibitions, supporting artists financially, and purchasing works that other collectors overlooked.
Born in 1875 into one of the wealthiest families in the United States, Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney defied expectations. Gertrude’s grandfather, Cornelius Vanderbilt, played a significant role in the construction of America’s railroad system, making him the wealthiest person in the country. But rather than live solely as a socialite, she cultivated a serious career in the arts and leveraged her position to uplift others. Her connection to the Titanic, though indirect, reveals the depth of her empathy and her commitment to using sculpture and patronage in service of public memory.
Today, her former studio at 19 MacDougal Alley is part of a larger complex owned by the New York Studio School of Drawing, Painting, and Sculpture. Though the Whitney Museum has since moved downtown, the legacy of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney—artist, philanthropist, and quiet chronicler of tragedy and resilience—continues to shape New York’s cultural landscape.
