'S.I. Newhouse Jr., Who Turned Condé Nast Into a Magazine Powerhouse, Dies at 89' diff viewer (10/11)

This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on October 01, 2017 13:48 (UTC). It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/01/obituaries/si-newhouse-dead.html

The article has changed 17 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Previous version 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Next version

Previous version 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Next version

Version 10	Version 11
S.I. Newhouse Jr., Who Turned Condé Nast Into a Magazine Powerhouse, Dies at 89	S.I. Newhouse Jr., Who Turned Condé Nast Into a Magazine Powerhouse, Dies at 89
2017-10-01 21:05:04 UTC	2017-10-01 23:05:07 UTC (about 2 hours later)
S. I. Newhouse Jr., who as the owner of The New Yorker, Vogue, Vanity Fair, Architectural Digest and other magazines wielded vast influence over American culture, fashion and social taste, died on Sunday at his home in Manhattan. He was 89.	S. I. Newhouse Jr., who as the owner of The New Yorker, Vogue, Vanity Fair, Architectural Digest and other magazines wielded vast influence over American culture, fashion and social taste, died on Sunday at his home in Manhattan. He was 89.
His family announced his death.	His family announced his death.
Mr. Newhouse, known as Si, and his younger brother, Donald, inherited an impressive publishing empire from their father, Samuel I. (“Sam”) Newhouse, and built it into one of the largest privately held fortunes in the United States, with estimates of the family wealth running over $12 billion at the turn of the 21st century. While Donald led the more profitable newspaper and cable television operations, Si took charge of the more glamorous magazine division, Condé Nast.	Mr. Newhouse, known as Si, and his younger brother, Donald, inherited an impressive publishing empire from their father, Samuel I. (“Sam”) Newhouse, and built it into one of the largest privately held fortunes in the United States, with estimates of the family wealth running over $12 billion at the turn of the 21st century. While Donald led the more profitable newspaper and cable television operations, Si took charge of the more glamorous magazine division, Condé Nast.
Much of that glamour was created under Si Newhouse’s direction. Though he was a shy man and often painfully awkward in public, Mr. Newhouse hired some of the most charismatic magazine editors of the late 20th century, among them Tina Brown and Graydon Carter at Vanity Fair and Diana Vreeland and Anna Wintour at Vogue, and encouraged them to behave like the celebrities they extolled in his publications.	Much of that glamour was created under Si Newhouse’s direction. Though he was a shy man and often painfully awkward in public, Mr. Newhouse hired some of the most charismatic magazine editors of the late 20th century, among them Tina Brown and Graydon Carter at Vanity Fair and Diana Vreeland and Anna Wintour at Vogue, and encouraged them to behave like the celebrities they extolled in his publications.
It helped that he rewarded them with salaries, expense accounts, clothing allowances and housing loans that were the envy of their peers. Newhouse editors also enjoyed spectacularly generous budgets at their magazines, which often ran deep in the red for years before turning profits.	It helped that he rewarded them with salaries, expense accounts, clothing allowances and housing loans that were the envy of their peers. Newhouse editors also enjoyed spectacularly generous budgets at their magazines, which often ran deep in the red for years before turning profits.
“I am not an editor,” Mr. Newhouse told The New York Times in 1989. “I flounder when people ask me, ‘What would you do?’ ” His philosophy, he said, was to let his editors run free. “We feel almost that whichever way it goes, as long as it doesn’t do something absolutely screwy, you can build a magazine around the direction an editor takes.”	“I am not an editor,” Mr. Newhouse told The New York Times in 1989. “I flounder when people ask me, ‘What would you do?’ ” His philosophy, he said, was to let his editors run free. “We feel almost that whichever way it goes, as long as it doesn’t do something absolutely screwy, you can build a magazine around the direction an editor takes.”
But when Mr. Newhouse deemed a magazine’s direction “screwy,” he didn’t hesitate to fire editors, sometimes so maladroitly that they first found out about their dismissals on television or in the gossip columns.	But when Mr. Newhouse deemed a magazine’s direction “screwy,” he didn’t hesitate to fire editors, sometimes so maladroitly that they first found out about their dismissals on television or in the gossip columns.
Newhouse magazines were criticized for exalting the rich and famous through articles that gave their personal foibles and professional exploits equal importance. But as circulation and advertising revenues at his periodicals soared, other publishers took up the glitz-and-scandal approach to journalism. By the end of the 20th century, even the most serious newspapers and magazines offered profiles of entertainers, businesspeople, artists and politicians that balanced weighty accomplishment with juicy gossip.	Newhouse magazines were criticized for exalting the rich and famous through articles that gave their personal foibles and professional exploits equal importance. But as circulation and advertising revenues at his periodicals soared, other publishers took up the glitz-and-scandal approach to journalism. By the end of the 20th century, even the most serious newspapers and magazines offered profiles of entertainers, businesspeople, artists and politicians that balanced weighty accomplishment with juicy gossip.
His magazines came to stand for a golden era of publishing, and became an integral part of the culture they were covering.	His magazines came to stand for a golden era of publishing, and became an integral part of the culture they were covering.
“With Si’s passing, the big chapters in the history of magazines — as written by men like Si and Henry Luce — will have come to an end,” said Mr. Carter, who last month announced that he would leave Vanity Fair in December after 25 years.	“With Si’s passing, the big chapters in the history of magazines — as written by men like Si and Henry Luce — will have come to an end,” said Mr. Carter, who last month announced that he would leave Vanity Fair in December after 25 years.
Two Hollywood movies, “The Devil Wears Prada” and “How to Lose Friends and Alienate People,” were made based on accounts of life at two of Mr. Newhouse’s flagship publications, Vogue and Vanity Fair. In 2007, Meryl Streep was nominated for an Academy Award for playing a character based on Ms. Wintour at Vogue. After the ceremony Ms. Streep attended the annual Vanity Fair Oscars party.	Two Hollywood movies, “The Devil Wears Prada” and “How to Lose Friends and Alienate People,” were made based on accounts of life at two of Mr. Newhouse’s flagship publications, Vogue and Vanity Fair. In 2007, Meryl Streep was nominated for an Academy Award for playing a character based on Ms. Wintour at Vogue. After the ceremony Ms. Streep attended the annual Vanity Fair Oscars party.
Mr. Newhouse owned a famed modern art collection that at one time was valued at more than $100 million. He and his second wife, Victoria, gave lavish parties at their Manhattan townhouse. And their dog was feted at an annual birthday bash at which Evian water was served to canine guests while their owners enjoyed caviar.	Mr. Newhouse owned a famed modern art collection that at one time was valued at more than $100 million. He and his second wife, Victoria, gave lavish parties at their Manhattan townhouse. And their dog was feted at an annual birthday bash at which Evian water was served to canine guests while their owners enjoyed caviar.
But he was better known as a workaholic who arrived at his Midtown Manhattan office before dawn and sometimes convened staff meetings at 6 a.m. He claimed to read every one of his magazines — they numbered more than 15 — from cover to cover.	But he was better known as a workaholic who arrived at his Midtown Manhattan office before dawn and sometimes convened staff meetings at 6 a.m. He claimed to read every one of his magazines — they numbered more than 15 — from cover to cover.
“I was brought up and trained in a very personal business by my father and his brothers, and they were all very personal operators and close to what they were doing,” Mr. Newhouse said in a 1993 article by Mediaweek.	“I was brought up and trained in a very personal business by my father and his brothers, and they were all very personal operators and close to what they were doing,” Mr. Newhouse said in a 1993 article by Mediaweek.
Samuel Irving Newhouse Jr. was born on Nov. 8, 1927. His father, Sam Newhouse, the son of an impoverished Russian-Jewish immigrant, was a lawyer who in 1922 invested his earnings in a failing newspaper, The Staten Island Advance.	Samuel Irving Newhouse Jr. was born on Nov. 8, 1927. His father, Sam Newhouse, the son of an impoverished Russian-Jewish immigrant, was a lawyer who in 1922 invested his earnings in a failing newspaper, The Staten Island Advance.
Under the name Advance Publications, Sam Newhouse and his brothers slowly built one of the largest newspaper chains in the country, including The Long Island Daily Press, The Star-Ledger, The Cleveland Plain-Dealer and The St. Louis Globe-Democrat, among more than a score of other papers. Though always profitable, Newhouse newspapers were not revered for quality. A respected journalism review, More magazine, once listed three Newhouse publications among the country’s 10 worst dailies.	Under the name Advance Publications, Sam Newhouse and his brothers slowly built one of the largest newspaper chains in the country, including The Long Island Daily Press, The Star-Ledger, The Cleveland Plain-Dealer and The St. Louis Globe-Democrat, among more than a score of other papers. Though always profitable, Newhouse newspapers were not revered for quality. A respected journalism review, More magazine, once listed three Newhouse publications among the country’s 10 worst dailies.
To please his wife, Mitzi, who loved Vogue, Sam Newhouse, in 1959, bought Condé Nast, the company that published that magazine along with Glamour, House & Garden and Young Brides. Their older son, Si, preferred Condé Nast to the newspaper chain, which was eventually turned over to Donald, two years his junior.	To please his wife, Mitzi, who loved Vogue, Sam Newhouse, in 1959, bought Condé Nast, the company that published that magazine along with Glamour, House & Garden and Young Brides. Their older son, Si, preferred Condé Nast to the newspaper chain, which was eventually turned over to Donald, two years his junior.
“Si would come to see the magazine acquisitions as his big chance,” wrote Carol Felsenthal, the author of the 1998 biography “Citizen Newhouse.” “He could make his mark apart from his father and brother, while inhaling the glamour and glitz for which he had a growing taste.”	“Si would come to see the magazine acquisitions as his big chance,” wrote Carol Felsenthal, the author of the 1998 biography “Citizen Newhouse.” “He could make his mark apart from his father and brother, while inhaling the glamour and glitz for which he had a growing taste.”
Before joining the magazine division, Si Newhouse, by his own admission, had been at loose ends. He dropped out of Syracuse University and worked halfheartedly at Newhouse headquarters. His first marriage, to Jane Franke, with whom he had three children, Sam, Wynn and Pamela, ended in divorce in 1959 after eight years.	Before joining the magazine division, Si Newhouse, by his own admission, had been at loose ends. He dropped out of Syracuse University and worked halfheartedly at Newhouse headquarters. His first marriage, to Jane Franke, with whom he had three children, Sam, Wynn and Pamela, ended in divorce in 1959 after eight years.
Mr. Newhouse is survived by his wife, Victoria; his brother, Donald; his son Sam and daughter, Pamela Mensch; five grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. His son Wynn died in 2010.	Mr. Newhouse is survived by his wife, Victoria; his brother, Donald; his son Sam and daughter, Pamela Mensch; five grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. His son Wynn died in 2010.
At Condé Nast, especially during his early years there, Mr. Newhouse leaned heavily on the guidance of Alexander Liberman, the magazine group’s editorial director and an accomplished painter, photographer and sculptor as well.	At Condé Nast, especially during his early years there, Mr. Newhouse leaned heavily on the guidance of Alexander Liberman, the magazine group’s editorial director and an accomplished painter, photographer and sculptor as well.
“Alex’s greatest characteristic is that he will never leave well enough alone,” Mr. Newhouse told The Times. “He is always probing and pushing.”	“Alex’s greatest characteristic is that he will never leave well enough alone,” Mr. Newhouse told The Times. “He is always probing and pushing.”
A lot of Mr. Liberman’s pushing involved getting his boss to spend money on talent. “No one will ever thank you for saving money at Condé Nast magazines,” Mr. Liberman told one of his editors, according to a 1996 Wall Street Journal article. “They’ll only thank you for making a great magazine.”	A lot of Mr. Liberman’s pushing involved getting his boss to spend money on talent. “No one will ever thank you for saving money at Condé Nast magazines,” Mr. Liberman told one of his editors, according to a 1996 Wall Street Journal article. “They’ll only thank you for making a great magazine.”
On Mr. Liberman’s advice, Mr. Newhouse hired Diana Vreeland, the celebrated fashion editor, to run Vogue in 1962; soon afterward he lured Richard Avedon, the leading fashion photographer, to the magazine. Over the years Mr. Newhouse expanded his stable of magazines by adding Self, Allure, GQ, Gourmet, Condé Nast Traveler, Architectural Digest and Details, among others.	On Mr. Liberman’s advice, Mr. Newhouse hired Diana Vreeland, the celebrated fashion editor, to run Vogue in 1962; soon afterward he lured Richard Avedon, the leading fashion photographer, to the magazine. Over the years Mr. Newhouse expanded his stable of magazines by adding Self, Allure, GQ, Gourmet, Condé Nast Traveler, Architectural Digest and Details, among others.
With Mr. Liberman counseling him, Mr. Newhouse also began amassing a major collection of postwar art, including works by Willem de Kooning, Mark Rothko, Barnett Newman, David Smith, Anthony Caro, Mark di Suvero, Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol, Claes Oldenburg and James Rosenquist. In 1988, he paid $17 million for a Jasper Johns painting, at the time a record price for the work of a living artist.	With Mr. Liberman counseling him, Mr. Newhouse also began amassing a major collection of postwar art, including works by Willem de Kooning, Mark Rothko, Barnett Newman, David Smith, Anthony Caro, Mark di Suvero, Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol, Claes Oldenburg and James Rosenquist. In 1988, he paid $17 million for a Jasper Johns painting, at the time a record price for the work of a living artist.
A milestone in Mr. Newhouse’s empire-building was the revival of Vanity Fair, a magazine of wit and sophistication that had ceased publication in 1936. Mr. Newhouse resurrected it in 1981, and after quickly dismissing its first two editors, he hired a 35-year-old British journalist, Tina Brown, to run it.	A milestone in Mr. Newhouse’s empire-building was the revival of Vanity Fair, a magazine of wit and sophistication that had ceased publication in 1936. Mr. Newhouse resurrected it in 1981, and after quickly dismissing its first two editors, he hired a 35-year-old British journalist, Tina Brown, to run it.
Ms. Brown began mixing adulatory Hollywood cover stories with articles on subjects that ran the gamut, from the vulgar to the profound, and circulation soared past one million. Among the magazine’s most-discussed covers was a photo of actress Demi Moore, seven months pregnant and nude. But Vanity Fair also ran probing psychological profiles of Mikhail S. Gorbachev and Fidel Castro.	Ms. Brown began mixing adulatory Hollywood cover stories with articles on subjects that ran the gamut, from the vulgar to the profound, and circulation soared past one million. Among the magazine’s most-discussed covers was a photo of the actress Demi Moore, seven months pregnant and nude. But Vanity Fair also ran probing psychological profiles of Mikhail S. Gorbachev and Fidel Castro.
Mr. Newhouse hired Ms. Brown’s husband, Harold Evans, a former chief editor of The Times of London, to introduce Condé Nast Traveler and then to run Random House, the largest American book publisher, which Mr. Newhouse had purchased in 1978.	Mr. Newhouse hired Ms. Brown’s husband, Harold Evans, a former chief editor of The Times of London, to introduce Condé Nast Traveler and then to run Random House, the largest American book publisher, which Mr. Newhouse had purchased in 1978.
His buying spree reached its apex in 1985 with his acquisition of The New Yorker, one of the country’s most intellectually rich general-interest magazines. Two years later, he replaced its legendary, septuagenarian editor, William Shawn, causing an outcry among the staff.	His buying spree reached its apex in 1985 with his acquisition of The New Yorker, one of the country’s most intellectually rich general-interest magazines. Two years later, he replaced its legendary, septuagenarian editor, William Shawn, causing an outcry among the staff.
Although Mr. Shawn’s successor, Robert Gottlieb, was a highly respected book editor, the move added to Mr. Newhouse’s notoriety for firing even the most pre-eminent editors. In 1971, he dismissed Ms. Vreeland as editor of Vogue. Her replacement, Grace Mirabella, was informed of her own firing in 1988 when the gossip columnist Liz Smith announced it on a New York television newscast.	Although Mr. Shawn’s successor, Robert Gottlieb, was a highly respected book editor, the move added to Mr. Newhouse’s notoriety for firing even the most pre-eminent editors. In 1971, he dismissed Ms. Vreeland as editor of Vogue. Her replacement, Grace Mirabella, was informed of her own firing in 1988 when the gossip columnist Liz Smith announced it on a New York television newscast.
“The way it was handled was graceless — without making a pun,” Mr. Newhouse was quoted as saying by one of his biographers, Thomas Maier, in a 1995 article in The Quill. “The P.R. of it got all bitched up.”	“The way it was handled was graceless — without making a pun,” Mr. Newhouse was quoted as saying by one of his biographers, Thomas Maier, in a 1995 article in The Quill. “The P.R. of it got all bitched up.”
But Mr. Newhouse was not any better at handling the dismissal of Mr. Gottlieb from The New Yorker in 1992. Mr. Gottlieb, who was traveling in Japan, found out he had lost his job when he was awakened in the middle of the night by a call from a reporter asking for comment on his firing. Mr. Gottlieb, like other former Newhouse editors, readily acknowledged that he had received a generous severance package.	But Mr. Newhouse was not any better at handling the dismissal of Mr. Gottlieb from The New Yorker in 1992. Mr. Gottlieb, who was traveling in Japan, found out he had lost his job when he was awakened in the middle of the night by a call from a reporter asking for comment on his firing. Mr. Gottlieb, like other former Newhouse editors, readily acknowledged that he had received a generous severance package.
While job stability was not a hallmark at Newhouse publications, his employees could count on perks that were unusual in the industry. Even junior editorial assistants grew accustomed to catered lunches and use of a car service. Senior editors received clothing allowances that ran into the tens of thousands of dollars, first-class airfares, virtually unlimited entertainment expenses, and million-dollar loans at subsidized interest rates to buy condominiums and country houses.	While job stability was not a hallmark at Newhouse publications, his employees could count on perks that were unusual in the industry. Even junior editorial assistants grew accustomed to catered lunches and use of a car service. Senior editors received clothing allowances that ran into the tens of thousands of dollars, first-class airfares, virtually unlimited entertainment expenses, and million-dollar loans at subsidized interest rates to buy condominiums and country houses.
Editorial budgets ballooned as Newhouse publications spent without restraint to hire the best-known writers, photographers and editors. “I believe in waste,” said Mr. Liberman, Condé Nast’s editorial director. “Waste is very important in creativity.”	Editorial budgets ballooned as Newhouse publications spent without restraint to hire the best-known writers, photographers and editors. “I believe in waste,” said Mr. Liberman, Condé Nast’s editorial director. “Waste is very important in creativity.”
But Mr. Newhouse’s largess eventually created a river of red ink. Because his publications were privately held, he did not disclose their finances. But according to The Wall Street Journal in 1996, Condé Nast lost up to $20 million in 1994 as nine of its 14 publications ran deficits. Unprofitable magazines like Mademoiselle and Gourmet were shut down. Random House was sold to Bertelsmann, the German publishing giant, for $1.4 billion in 1998, two decades after Mr. Newhouse had paid $60 million for it.	But Mr. Newhouse’s largess eventually created a river of red ink. Because his publications were privately held, he did not disclose their finances. But according to The Wall Street Journal in 1996, Condé Nast lost up to $20 million in 1994 as nine of its 14 publications ran deficits. Unprofitable magazines like Mademoiselle and Gourmet were shut down. Random House was sold to Bertelsmann, the German publishing giant, for $1.4 billion in 1998, two decades after Mr. Newhouse had paid $60 million for it.
Mr. Newhouse’s new concern for the bottom line soon claimed the free-spending Ms. Brown. Despite her success at raising Vanity Fair’s circulation, the publication continued to lose millions of dollars a year. When she moved over to The New Yorker as Mr. Gottlieb’s replacement in 1992, she failed to stem the magazine’s huge losses and stepped down in 1998.	Mr. Newhouse’s new concern for the bottom line soon claimed the free-spending Ms. Brown. Despite her success at raising Vanity Fair’s circulation, the publication continued to lose millions of dollars a year. When she moved over to The New Yorker as Mr. Gottlieb’s replacement in 1992, she failed to stem the magazine’s huge losses and stepped down in 1998.
Under a new editor, David Remnick, The New Yorker regained its footing and edged into the black.	Under a new editor, David Remnick, The New Yorker regained its footing and edged into the black.
Despite the fiscal constraints, Mr. Newhouse pledged $100 million to start Portfolio, an ambitious glossy business magazine edited by Joanne Lipman. It made its debut in 2007, but it never turned a profit, and after only two years it was shut down.	Despite the fiscal constraints, Mr. Newhouse pledged $100 million to start Portfolio, an ambitious glossy business magazine edited by Joanne Lipman. It made its debut in 2007, but it never turned a profit, and after only two years it was shut down.