Art imitates life, or perhaps it is reverse, for Burt Brent.

As a sculptor working in stainless steel and bronze, Brent is known for the sleekness of his designs —curvaceous sables, for instance; angular avians, beveled brown bears, humpbacked hippos and geese that invite children to climb on their backs for a ride.



As a surgeon, it is Dr. Brent who has restored lost physical symmetry to the lives of his spiritually-damaged patients.  Using his knowledge of tactility, he plies his magic to help them feel whole. Both expressions of the man could be found embedded in a recent news headline that flashed by millions of people around the globe.

More than a decade and a half ago while writing a magazine story about Brent’s sculpture—which can be found in several museums as well as settings like the San Diego and San Francisco zoos— I asked him about his plastic surgery resume in putting people back together again.

Brent mentioned J. Paul Getty III, scion to a famous family oil that made a fortune in oil.  In 1973, young Mr. Getty was kidnapped by terrorists in Italy and had one of his ears cut off as his captors pressed for a multi-million-dollar ransom.  Not long after, the same thing happened to Giorgia Calissoni, a teenage heir to the Bulgari family famous for selling-high-end jewelry.

Brent was the plastic surgeon to whom both the traumatized Getty  and Calissoni turned for help in 1977. The physician, based in Palo Alto, Calif. ingeniously fashioned them new ears to repair the disfiguration. Although he spoke well of Getty, out of deference, he said that as long as his patient was alive he did not feel comfortable elaborating on his doctor-patient relationship.

On February 5, 2011, Getty died in London at age 54, following a long illness and many years of struggle.  “Getty’s passing got me to thinking a lot,” Brent said, after he and I spoke on the phone. Rather than paraphrase his thoughts, the following is Burt’s reflection in his own words.  Arguably, few people better understand the therapeutic power of art as a force for healing and as a means for connecting people to nature.
 

By Dr. Burt Brent

 
Thirty some years ago I came to know J. Paul Getty III when I surgically reconstructed his ear following the kidnapping where his captors sent his amputated auricle to his family with a ransom note.  A media blitz covered this, including a Time Magazine article entitled, “Surgery as Sculpture.”  In an unusual twist of fate, that allowed Getty in turn to help hundreds of children.


 
These articles centered on the Getty kidnapping case but went into the work I was doing for children born with severely malformed, missing ears (microtia).  To protect Getty’s privacy, I wouldn’t allow the media to publish his surgical pictures but instead used “before” and “after” images of a cute little kid whose ear I had surgically created.  Within weeks, I received hundreds of letters from around the world by parents who wanted me to repair the missing ears of their children.  I have dedicated my professional life to this and have now repaired ears for nearly 2,000 of these kids.
 
During the time I was working with Paul Getty and performing his surgeries, we developed a relationship and had several long talks about the attendant publicity and the interest that had been generated by his surgical restoration.  He voiced to me his sincere pleasure that at least his terrible ordeal and injury was in a way helping many children and how it was the one positive thing about his tragedy.  He even talked about being involved with a foundation to foster advances in reconstructive surgery.
 
Paul Getty’s life was a tragic one, but there was an unintended positive consequence—many hundreds of children and their families have had their quality of life enhanced and have been spared lives of cruel, emotional torment.
 
In a most improbable way, J. Paul Getty III’s ordeal served a noble purpose—for which he was aware and pleased.  It was the one consolation of his most tragic life.