The Met: a History of a Museum and Its People
by Jonathan Conlin
Columbia University Press/423 pages/$28 (paperback)
Reviewed by Ed Voves
Special photography by Anne Lloyd
Mark Twain’s first novel was published in 1873. Twain’s book, co-written with Charles
Dudley Warner, was an unsparing, if occasionally humorous, expose of the post-Civil War U.S.A.
Within an amazingly brief interval, the title
of this novel was adopted as a fitting epithet for the greed and hypocrisy of contemporary American
society:
The Gilded Age.
No historical era is ever completely corrupt or
devoid of achievement. The decade of the 1870’s was the period when many of the
great art museums of the U.S. were founded. Of these, the Metropolitan Museum
of Art in New York City has risen to heights of cultural leadership and art collecting, along with the British Museum and the Louvre.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2023)
Curbside view of the entrance to the Metropolitan Museum of Art
A new book, The Met: a History of a Museum and Its People by Jonathan
Conlin, takes a critical and cautionary approach to the story of the hallowed museum
located at 82nd and Fifth Ave. In Conlin’s view, wealth, power and
prejudice have frequently been the determining factors in preventing the Met
from becoming a truly democratic and egalitarian institution.
Conlin is a professional historian, a native New Yorker who teaches at the University of Southampton in England. His skill as a researcher is formidable and he provides important insights on selected aspects of the Met's social history not readily available elsewhere. In doing so, Conlin brings to life events and issues from the museum's past which are still relevant today.
There are, however, serious questions and caveats regarding Conlin's often negative view of the Metropolitan Museum of Art which I will discuss in this review. It is less a concern over factual accuracy, more a matter of the degree of Conlin's zeal in exposing the flaws of the Metropolitan Museum, real and imagined.
Conlin's The Met: a History of a Museum and its People is an important book, none-the-less, and deserves a fair reading.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art was incorporated on April 13, 1870. Two years later, art-lovers were welcomed to view its small, but growing collection, displayed in a leased townhouse at 681 Fifth Ave, between Fifty-Third and Fifty-Fourth Streets. The museum soon moved to a second, more suitable site, the Douglas Mansion, Fourteenth Street between Sixth and Seventh Avenues.
Stereoscope photo. New York Public Library collection. Fifth Avenue & Central Park North from
59th Street to the Art Museum, 1900. The Metropolitan Museum appears in the far distance, top-right.
Finally on March 30, 1880, the Met opened the doors of its permanent home, located on a municipal site in Central Park, facing Fifth Ave. The original building was designed by Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey. Now almost entirely obscured by subsequent additions, the first Met was built in the Gothic-Revival style, already passing out of favor. From its very beginnings, The Met has been preoccupied with refurbishing and reinventing its image.
If the Met's Board of Trustees took their time building a permanent edifice, they were a bit too hasty in selecting the first director for their museum, Luigi Palma di Cesnola (1832-1904).
Jacob D. Blondel, Luigi Palma di Cesnola, 1865
Cesnola is a fascinating character - or perhaps charlatan is a more accurate. An Italian-born veteran of Italy's wars of liberation, the Crimean War and the American Civil War, he was man of undoubted physical courage. A hero he was, but not one whose ethical behavior was above reproach.
Following the Civil War, Cesnola worked the political patronage network to secure the position of U.S. Consul on the Turkish-ruled island of Cyprus. A cross-roads of culture in ancient times, 19th century Cyprus was notable for abundant sculptures, grave markers and other artifacts from antiquity, located on site. In Cesnola's eyes, these ancient treasures were there for the picking and he helped himself with both hands.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)
Detail
of the Amathus Sarcophagus, Cyprus, 5th
century B.C., from the Cesnola Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art
From 1870 to 1877, Cesnola and his Turkish subordinates scoured Cyprus in what was little more than a campaign of plunder. Thousands of ancient works were removed or unearthed with scant regard for compiling data about their age or location.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)
Gallery view of the Cesnola Collection of Cypriot Art. The figure in the center is a limestone statue of Hercules, ca. 530-520 B.C.
Cesnola approached the leaders of the fledgling Metropolitan Museum, hoping to entice them to buyihis treasures, which he declared had been excavated at a fabulous archaeological site, the Temple of Curium.
The Met's trustees did not inquire very closely as to location of the Temple of Curium, which was in Conlin's terse phrase, "pure fabrication." They purchased Cesnola's looted treasures "lock,stock and barrel" and then hired him as the museum's director.
Cesnola's Gilded Age career is a true godsend to Conlin, enabling him to launch his account of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in high style.
Yet, a troubling note appears, even in this hugely enjoyable early chapter of The Met. For no apparent reason, Cesnola's 1903 acquisition of the Monteleone Chariot is not included in the discussion of his questionable approach to collection building - and it should have been.
Ed Voves, Photo (2024)
Gallery view at the Met, showing the Montelion Chariot, 6th century B.C.
The Montelion Chariot, dating to the sixth century BC was unearthed from an Etruscan tomb in Italy in 1902. It was quickly offered for sale and Cesnola purchased it for the Metropolitan before Italian authorities could intervene to keep it in their country. Technically, it was a legal sale, if a dubious one. Recently, documents have been discovered showing that Cesnola conspired with the chariot's discoverers to circumvent the Italian government ban on the export of antiquities.
The Monteleon Chariot affair was not an isolated incident in the Met's history. The Sarpedon Krater, a Greek vase looted by grave-robbers from Italy in 1971, was purchased by the museum. After years of controversy, it was repatriated to Italy in 2008.
Neither the Monteleon Chariot nor the Sarpedon Krater incidents are discussed by Conlon. Why are these examples of unethical or questionable professional behavior not included in The Met? Conlin provides an answer in the final chapter of The Met.
Referring to the companion book of the Met's 150th anniversary exhibition in 2020, Conlin writes:
... the catalogue to the 150th anniversary exhibition "Making the Met" had little to say how Gilded Age benefactors had funded their generosity, the gendering of the curatorial profession, guards, the museum's role in the construction of national identity - the issues this book has placed at the heart of the Met's history.
Conlin thus affirms - on page 308 - what becomes increasingly obvious as one navigates the flow of his narrative. The Met's fundamental theme is the role of this great museum within the context of its surrounding community, both New York City and the American nation, at large.
Social justice is the focus of The Met, much more so than the professional ethics involved in appraising the provenance of works of art or aesthetic interest and scholarship.
Ed Voves, Photo (2024)
Gallery view of the Greek & Roman galleries at the Met.The terracotta urn, at left, dating to 750-735 B.C., was used as a grave marker
Book reviewers have the duty to comment on what authors have written rather than what they feel the authors should have included. With the exception of the Monteleon chariot/Sarpeden Krater incidents and the sequence of events leading to the near catastrophe of the Met Breuer, it is hard to fault Conlin for "sins of omission."
What Conlin provides are tightly-focused, detailed examinations of events and topics which brought the Met into collaboration, confrontation or conflict with the communities it serves. These chapters can be read in sequence or stand as independent, set-piece accounts of major incidents in the Met's history or its evolving role in response to societal forces beyond the Fifth Ave. doors.
Installation view of the Morgan Collection of Chinese Porcelains,1907
Photo © Metropolitan Museum of Art
The educational role of the Met - for school children and working-adults; the vexatious problem of incorporating modern art in a collection deeply rooted in Old Master paintings; the slow climb of women up the Met's curatorial ladder; the use of media from art prints to the Met's web site to create a museum "brand"; the unenviable role of poorly-paid guards who have to safeguard art works and maintain public safety - all these and more social issues are treated by Conlin, often brilliantly
The common thread uniting these chapters in Conlin's retelling of the Met's story is the growth and change, over time, of the social-conscience of Met staff members - from the museum director to the guards at the front door. Were they - are they now - gatekeepers of civilization or activists seeking to promote a more equitable world?
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018)
Gallery view of the In Praise of Painting exhibit, showing a Metropolitan guard, next to Rembrandt’s Aristotle with a Bust of Homer, 1653.
To better grasp Conlin's approach to the Met's history, let's look at the chapter dealing with the notorious 1969 exhibition Harlem on My Mind. The complex, yet cogently written, text of "Uptown: the Met and the Total Black Community, 1943-1977" uses the 1969 exhibit as a vantage point to examine the Met's relationship with the African-American community centered in a neighborhood, less than three miles from its doors: Harlem.
Installation view of the Metropolitan Museum's special exhibition,
Harlem on My Mind, 1969. Photo © Metropolitan Museum of Art
Harlem on My Mind was almost bound to be controversial, even if every point of exhibition planning was expertly carried out. The basic premise of the exhibit was so flawed as to be hardly credible today: an art exhibition about African-Americans without actual art by African-Americans.
This blunder stemmed from trying to reformat a successful exhibition at the nearby Jewish Museum. Portal to America had used hundreds of vintage photographs of Jewish immigrants to New York during the early 20th century to create an immersive visual environment. Portal showed the Jewish experience as a success story, the transformation from impoverished aliens to successful citizens.
Selecting Portal to America as the template for Harlem on My Mind revealed the shocking lack of appreciation for the dilemma of African-Americans. If American Jews had escaped from the ghetto, many African-Americans were still stuck there.
:
The Met staff gave their "all" to make Harlem on My Mind a success. The exhibit design was very impressive and an expensive catalog was published. Nearly 500,000 patrons attended. Yet, Harlem on My Mind satisfied few community leaders and writers, on either side of the racial divide. The exhibition was picketed by members of the African-American community, then by Jewish-Americans angered by comments in the introduction to the catalog.
Harlem on My Mind was viewed by many as a catalyst for eventual change at the Met. It is also an example of contingency in history. Events seldom go as planned. Unpredictable outcomes foster further unforeseen changes. Defeat can lead to victory; success often turns into bitter failure.
The story of the Metropolitan Museum is marked by a notable instance of contingency. The triumph of building the Cloisters during the 1930's set the scene for the construction of an impressive wing on the Met to house the ancient Temple of Dendur. This remarkable edifice - actually built by the Roman emperor Augustus - was a gift from Egypt to the U.S. for assistance in constructing the Aswan Dam during the 1960's.
The "can-do" spirit generated by the Cloisters and the Temple of Dendur led to a spectacular act of overreach: the Met Breuer disaster, 2016-2020. Unfortunately, this chain of contingency is ignored in Conlin's account.
Ed Voves, Photo (2023)
The Cloisters Museum, showing the Bonnefont Cloister & Herb Garden
Last autumn, I visited the Cloisters and wrote about it in some detail, which I won't repeat here. However, the Cloisters is vitally important to the development of the Metropolitan during the post-World War II era.
Shortly after the Cloisters construction began in the Washington Heights neighborhood, a young curator, just graduated from Harvard, was tasked with overseeing the project. His name was James Rorimer. He handled the job brilliantly, the Cloisters opening in 1939 with later additions in the 1950's.
Rorimer went on to be a hero of the World War II Monuments Men and then director of the Met, 1955-1966. Rorimer regarded himself as a "museum man" dedicated to efficient management and careful attention to the annual budget. He actually testified at a Congressional hearing against the use of Federal funds for museums!
Rorimer died suddenly of heart failure in 1966. His "unspectacular" tenure as the Met's director was marked by spectacular successes - a three-fold jump in attendance, the Mona Lisa visit in 1962, the completion of the Cloisters additions. Based upon these triumphs, Rorimer's publicity-loving successor, Thomas Hoving, was able to win U.S. government approval for the Met to be the new home of the Temple of Dendur.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2016)
Gallery view of the Temple of Dendur at the Met. It was originally built in Nubia and completed by 10 B.C. during the reign of Caesar Augustus.
Success building upon success is an intoxicating elixir. The Temple of Dendur wing, opened in 1978, spurred plans to build a similar addition at 82nd and Fifth Ave. for the Met's growing collection of modern art. But that was a huge, costly undertaking. An interim site for modern art and special exhibitions appeared when the Whitney Museum vacated its Madison Ave. building for a "downtown" site.
As had happened with Cesnola's Temple of Curium treasures, the Met's leaders and trustees could not resist temptation.
The Met spent $13 million on
repairs and renovation of the Whitney, to transform the dark, claustrophobic modernist
“icon” into the Met Breuer. That is a considerable financial outlay for a facility
which was leased for only eight years, ending in 2023. Annual operating
expenditure for the Met Breuer was projected at $17 million.
Ajay Suresh, Photo (2019) The Met Breuer Building.
Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
The Met Breuer initiative, as planned, was a classic scenario of spending money to make more money.
The Met Breuer opened in
March 2016. A month later, the financial floor of the Met began to cave-in. A budget
shortfall of $10 million was announced, which if not addressed quickly would escalate
to a staggering $40 million.
Emergency damage control measures, including lay-off of
museum guards, did little to help. The Met’s director,
Thomas Campbell, a major proponent of the Met Breuer, resigned in February 2017. The Met announced in 2018 that the
Met Breuer would close in 2020, before the lease expired, which it did, partly
under the smokescreen of the Covid-19 quarantine closings.
The Met Breuer affair was
not an unmitigated disaster. The Frick Collection subleased the building from
the Met so it could display its art works while the venerable Frick building
underwent major redesign and repairs. But it was a serious crisis, all the same, one which could have been avoided.
As noted above, Conlin ignores the successful Cloisters project. He skates over the
Met Breuer fiasco with the barest of mentions. Other details of the Met's 2016-2020 financial embarrassments and allegations of personal misconduct by Campbell are given more substantial press.
This leads only to further puzzlement about Conlin's priorities. Is the story of the Metropolitan Museum of Art primarily a record of perceived missteps and mistakes, allegations of cultural elitism, "muckraking" about museum officials and donors and insensitivity to marginalized social groups?
Conlin scores some well-aimed and well-deserved hits on the Met. Yet, sadly, he repeats the blunder of Thomas Hoving and the curators of Harlem on My Mind. Just as that 1969 exhibition failed to include actual art works from the Harlem Renaissance, so Conlin largely excludes works of art in the Met's collection from consideration in his narrative.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018)
Discarded admission stickers from the Metropolitan Museum of Art
The subtitle of Conlin's The Met is A History of a Museum and its People. I closed this provocative, often brilliant, book wondering where were the "people."
The creative spirit which motivates artists and curators is seldom glimpsed in The Met. The joy of art inspiring millions of visitors to the Met - 5.5 million during the fiscal year ending June 30, 2024 - is missing too. Conlin's book ultimately fails to present a balanced appraisal of the Metropolitan as a museum of art.
To regain some of the balance missing in The Met, a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art is heartily recommended.
Art Eyewitness Image, Photo (2018 & 2024 photos)
The Metropolitan Museum's Greek & Roman Sculpture Court
and the Rembrant portraits gallery
Walk around the Met's galleries, on a quiet morning or a busy afternoon. Tune in to the buzz of excitement at a special exhibition. Strike up a conversation with an Old Master or gaze on a precious survival of Native American culture.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2023)
Gallery view of the Juan de Pareja, Afro-Hispanic Painter exhibition, showing Diego Velázquez’s Juan de Pareja,1650
Ed Voves, Photo (2018)
Native American Boy’s Jacket, Crow Nation, c. 1880, Displayed in the American Wing, on loan from the Charles & Valerie Diker collection.
Best of all, take a few moments and listen to what Andre Malraux called "the voices of silence."
Ed Voves, Photo (2024)
Gallery view of the Metropolitan Museum, showing a Marble Grave Stele of a Young Woman with a Servant, Greek (Attic), 400-390 BC.
Enter into the spirit of 82nd and 5th Avenue and you will discover or realize anew that the Met itself is a work of art and a very great one indeed.
***
Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved
Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd,
Photo (2023) A view of the main entrance of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Anne Lloyd,
Photo (2023 Curbside view of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City.
Cover illustration of The Met by Jonathan
Conlin
Stereoscope
photograph of Fifth Ave, New York City, looking north from 59th
street to the Art Museum. New York Public Library. Robert N. Dennis collection of Stereoscopic
views https://iiif-prod.nypl.org/index.php?id=G91F185_027F&t=v
Jacob D. Blondel (American, 1817-1877) Luigi Palma di Cesnola, 1865. Oil on Canvas: 27 1/4 x 22 1/8 in. (69.2 x 56.2 cm) Collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Detail of the Amathus
Sarcophagus, 5th
century BC, from the Cesnola Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Anne Lloyd,
Photo (2022) Gallery view of the Cesnola Collection of Cypriot Art, Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Ed Voves, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing the
Montelion Chariot, bronze Etruscan chariot, 6th century B.C.
Ed Voves, Photo (2024) Gallery view of of the Greek & Roman galleries at the Met.The terracotta urn, at left, dating to 750-735 B.C., was used as a grave marker.
Metropolitan Museum archival photo showing an installation view of the Morgan Collection of Chinese Porcelains, 1907. Photo © Metropolitan Museum of Art
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Gallery view of
the In Praise of Painting exhibition, showing a Metroplitan Museum guard on duty, next to Rembrandt’s Aristotle with a Bust of Homer, 1653.
Metropolitan Museum archival photo showing an installation view of the Metropolitan Museum's special exhibition, Harlem
on My Mind, 1969. Photo © Metropolitan
Museum of Art
Ed Voves, Photo (2023) The Cloisters Museum, showing the Bonnefont Cloister and herb garden.
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2016) Gallery view of
the Temple of Dendur at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Ajay Suresh, Photo (2019) The Met Breuer Building. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:MET_Breuer_(48377070386).jpg
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Discarded
admission stickers from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, October 2018.
Art Eyewitness Photo Montage (2018 &
2024 photos) The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Greek & Roman Sculpture Court
and the Rembrandt Gallery.
Anne Lloyd,
Photo (2023) Gallery view of the Juan de Pareja,
Afro-Hispanic Painter exhibition, showing Diego Velázquez’s Juan de Pareja,
1650. Collection of the Metropolitan Museum of
Art.
Ed Voves, Photo (2018) Native American Boy’s Jacket, Crow Nation,
c. 1880. Displayed in the American Wing, on loan from the Charles & Valerie Diker collection.
Ed Voves, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Met, showing a Marble Grave Stele of a Young Woman with a Servant, Greek (Attic), 400-390 BC.
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