Is anything so nearly perfect, so reliably, repeatedly sublime, that it deserves to be preserved, as-is, for people yet unborn to experience the same joy that we know now? Can one fix some exquisite entity, as it were, in amber, immune from changing fashion and unsusceptible to the contamination of the whims of the insistent rich? Must some place, any place, however satisfying, grow and change, or die? Is even Isabella Stewart Gardner's august and unmatched 'Palace of Art', Fenway Court, unsafe from threat?
1903: Fenway Court
At the Gardner Museum, the imposition of the tastes, concerns and enthusiasms of those now in charge of this unique assemblage's safekeeping, have superseded Mrs. Jack's precise directives. She and her lawyers believed that specifications that nothing in the collection might be changed, loaned or even moved, were iron-clad. But they were wrong. It would seem that dead benefactors have no rights which the living are bound to abide by.
As we grow older, inevitably, one or another of two opposing biases deepens: either one becomes inclined to trivialize the lasting value of all things as ephemeral and replaceable, like youth and beauty, or one becomes ever more hardened against having special places one loves, arbitrarily altered and diminished.
1888
The Hall and Sitting Room at 152 Beacon Street.
In Boston Gardner officials boast that 'their museum' is "unchanged but not stagnate." Thanks to Renzo Piano this is an understatement at best, since the very way one enters the museum and circulates has been totally altered. How well I remember my first time. leaving the brilliant summer's sunshine, the noise of a baseball game in progress, and entering into a low, relatively cool and hushedly quiet place...walking toward the softly splashing sound of water, brushing past an enormous tree fern, how exhilarating to see a sight that had made even proper Bostonians gasp with delight a century ago, one that makes me gasp now too, after half a dozen visits, over a distance of 25 years. Moreover there were paintings upstairs of opulent grandeur, set off against remnants of Mrs. Gardner's old ball gowns . My favorite?...Titian's incomparable allegory with an unexpected crease down the middle. How reassuring it used to be knowing that Mrs. Gardner's will stipulated that nothing at Fenway Court would ever be altered in any way which might diminish or cheapen her vision of a sublime refuge. In a world where uncertainly is the only constant, surely such a place is needed more now than ever before.
MHA Excellent! Many of us felt that the Gardner should have been called on its bluff: the rumored threat to throw out the will completely - that Mrs. Gardner could not possibly have anticipated twenty-first century museum needs and requirements - and therefore. eliminate. Our feeling was that the AG should have called the Gardner on this bluff, but rather than accept the obvious violations of the will, advise it to seek other means to survive, such as A) a merger with the MFA or Harvard or B) establish a second off site location for non-essential museum offices and services. MFA felt, as we do, that Fenway Court is in its entirety a work of art, and it would have gladly accepted responsibility for caring for it (as the Met cares for the Cloisters). As such, it would be safeguarded and preserved in toto, i.e. without any further alterations (such as the elimination of the Asia Room, on an earlier director's watch - or the moving of the sarcophagus in the East Cloister to accommodate the new entrance). Of course, in her life time, Mrs. Gardner made her own changes, (e.g. elimination of old Music Room to create the Tapestry Room), but we agree with you that Mrs. Gardner and her legacy, as contained in her will, should be have been honoured, not violated, and for what purpose? To create a new entrance that completely divorces the visitor from the experience Mrs. Gardner intended? It's a telling sign that the Gardner chose a celebrity architect currently fashionable for museum commission rather than a latter day Willard Sears. Mrs. G after all selected Sears, the old family architect, not McKim, Mead and White or Peabody and Stearns.
Posted by: Steve Jerome | 01/06/2012 at 11:57 PM
I hope that my newest post properly responds to your question...
Posted by: Michael Henry Adams, Style and Taste! | 01/08/2012 at 07:23 PM
As the great-great-grandson of the original architect, Willard T. Sears, I just wanted to thank you for writing this. You pretty much nailed it.
Posted by: Ted Read | 06/06/2014 at 11:34 AM