Meeting Isabella

Today is the day!  Isabella Stewart Gardner, her museum and her eccentricities have always tickled my fancy – and today, I get to meet her!!  She built the three story Venetian palace that houses the collections; she scoured the Earth to find the art; she designed, displayed and arranged the pieces and when she died, she laid down the law – no changes. It is HER museum and I am finally going to see it. 

The brief museum bio highlights the adventuress rather than the Boston matron.  A strong and independent woman in the Belle Époque, she kept company with artists, musicians and writers – scandalous!  “Don’t spoil a good story by telling the truth", she said.  I can hardly wait!!

The sound you just heard was the shattering of my illusions.

Bold and eccentric gave way immediately to kitsch-y and bizarre.  For example, this Stylobate Lion was carved as the base of a column.  I just can’t imagine that it was this column.  Neither the styles nor the materials match.  I don’t think I would have cemented them together, but if I had, I hope I would have done a better job!  The museum is full of these strange juxtapositions; A Moorish arch frames an impressionist masterpiece and a collection of distressed enamelware in a hall lined with primitive Mexican tile.

As we wandered through the exhibits, we found bits and pieces of salvaged architectural details plastered awkwardly into the walls.  Paintings crowd haphazardly throughout the museum, paving entire galleries.  Indifferently lighted, they are clinging to the ceiling, propped in corners and hung behind doors.  Drawings and etchings are clustered on rows of hinged panels which are layered three or four deep on the wall.  So these wonderful sketches, some only a few inches square, hang far above my head and as I flip through, I feel like I am shopping for rugs at Home Depot. 

On our arrival, an enthusiastic and well-informed docent spent ten minutes trying to help us understand the genius behind the strange installations, but frankly, I just didn’t buy it.  Isabella bought Rembrandt, and Botticelli, and lots and lots of John Singer Sergeant.  But she couldn’t buy style. 

P.S. The courtyard was gorgeous!

(No cameras are allowed, so the pictures are from the website.