Rebecca Garrett Shares the Story of Her Father’s Ties to J. Paul Getty
By REBECCA GARRETT | Special to the Palisadian-Post
The stories of J. Paul Getty’s famous frugality are often the first people hear. It was exactly this trait that brought my father, Stephen Garrett, into his life.
As he tells it, a quantity surveyor and mutual friend was asked by Getty if he knew a good and inexpensive architect. My father’s name came up. This was in the 1960s and Getty had just purchased two small islands called Gaiola in the Bay of Naples. He wanted advice on what could and should be done with the dilapidated structures.

Photo courtesy of Rebecca Garrett
In good Getty fashion, he asked my father—who, at that time, had his own architectural firm in London specializing in the restoration of historic buildings—to fly out to Naples for the day and to write up a report. No room or board would be provided, so he was to fly out and back in a day with a sack lunch made by my mother. It was impressed upon my father that this was a one-time deal, and that after he submitted his report, he shouldn’t expect to hear from Getty again.
My father ended up going out to Gaiola over a dozen times. By then he was presenting his reports in person rather than just through the post.
On one of these trips down to Sutton Place—Getty’s estate outside of London—the Old Man (as my father affectionately called him) asked him if he would go out to California to assess what could be done to expand the Ranch House to make room for more art. The Ranch House was on the 64-acre property in Pacific Palisades, which Getty had purchased in 1946. The house held much of Getty’s collection but was running out of space.
It was decided that an entirely new building would be more appropriate than adding on to the existing one. In 1968 during one of my father’s visits to Sutton Place, Getty announced that he had decided to build a replica of the Villa dei Papiri, a Roman villa overlooking the Mediterranean in Herculaneum.
One of the first challenges they would encounter was that the villa had been covered with lava when Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD and there were very limited plans of the building, which had yet to be excavated. Getty’s singleness of vision drove construction and the Villa, then called the J. Paul Getty Museum, opened to the public in January of 1974.
Getty’s health had declined during this time, and he asked my father if he would move to Los Angeles and run the museum for two years while he got better. Sadly Getty’s condition did not improve and he passed away in 1976, never having seen in person his creation.
It was at this time that my father was asked to assume Getty’s position as director. The photograph accompanying this piece was taken then. He was very fond of this photo, as he said it was the only time anyone thought he was in control of anything.
He framed and hung it proudly in our home in Pacific Palisades until his death in December 2019.
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