Boston Trip: Day Three

Thursday was our last day in the city, and a little more sparsely populated than the previous days.  The morning started with a trip to Vose Galleries, the oldest dealers in American Art still in business.  Vose has always been a family affair, and that tradition continues today.  On the morning we arrived, the Voses were expecting another addition to the family to arrive that afternoon and it seems as though the family business will continue well into the future.  Students spent time on the galleries three floors, examining a range of works from Heades to Homers to contemporary pastels.  In addition to being able to examine works close up and see different styles of framing, we also heard a bit about the business side of the market: how works come into the gallery, how the market has shifted in the past decade, strategies for client services and cultivation, and the impact of the internet on marketing and sales.  The Voses and their staff were extremely generous, and we were grateful for the time we spent with them.

The gallery is housed in a brownstone on Newbury Street, which allows you to get a sense of scale and proportion of the works in a way that's impossible in a larger, more sterile space.  

If you'd like to know more about the Voses, their inventory, and exhibition schedule, click here

After the gallery visit, we headed over to the gold-domed State House, built by Charles Bullfinch with subsequent renovations and additions.  

It's an impressive building, the tours are free, and even though one must pass through metal detectors to enter the building (which always delays a group somewhat), it is well worth a visit.

Here's our group at the entrance.

Personally, I found the classical restraint of the Bullfinch sections to be the most elegant portions of the building, although the exuberant later work was interesting, too.  One reason we decided to take this tour was so that students could see the difference between Bullfinch’s residential work and his civic commissions.  Between this and the Otis house, we were able to see many examples of Bullfinch’s work, from the differences between public and private space in a residential setting, to public commissions designed to be both functional and ennobling. 

One of the stranger (and less visually successful) elements of the tour was an enclosed courtyard that was used for press conferences and events.  If there was any complaints I had about the building, it was the disjunction between styles and the varying quality of the design.  

The ceilings are one of the best parts of the tour, despite the limited attention they receive. 

Although aspects of the Victorian addition were quite nice, the blend of this, with the Bullfinch and Michael Dukakis' mid to late 1980s, worked against a feeling of cohesion.  Whereas the Bullfinch sections really stood on their own as great spaces, the newer additions were less satisfying.

Statue of a Civil War Nurse and Wounded Soldier, given to the State by the Massachusetts Daughters of Veterans in 1914.  On the wall behind this statue are plaques honoring Clara Barton and Second Lt. Frances Slanger.  

From there, it was a short walk across the street to the Robert Gould Shaw Memorial, sculpted by Augustus Saint-Gaudens.  

The creation of the monument and its subsequent history seems to tell an important piece of the Civil War and race relations in the United States.  Shaw, who commanded the all-black 54^th regiment is honored by this piece, as are the five white soldiers who were killed during the battle of Charleston Harbor, and although the black soldiers appear in the scene, they remained nameless until they were included on the monument in 1981.  Adding insult to injury, the 54th regiment was also paid less than white regiments, despite being brought into the war with the promise of equal pay.  It would be 18 months (and only after refusing all pay if it was not equal pay) that the soldiers received their full salaries. Critics have often remarked that Saint Gaudens’ sensitive treatment of the men in the company and individualized portraits used for the figures prevents them from becoming faceless, generic figures. 

Boston Trip Day 2

Day 2, like day one featured an ambitious schedule: a morning meeting in the hotel’s conference room, then to The Harrison Gray Otis House (10:00), Paul Revere House (11:30), followed by lunch and the recently reinstalled Art of the America’s Wing at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston (2:00).

The Otis House is wonderful and maddening: wonderful because the architect was Bullfinch and maddening because they won’t allow photography in the interior.  It’s also wonderful because they make you wear shoe covers so there is no mistaking the fact you are in an important space that requires special considerations. 

The Paul Revere House has a much different style of interpretation than the Gray House, preferring a more generalized period approach to a time specific one.  I got the impression that this difference was less a failure on their part than something ingrained in their mission.  

The house is small, but charming.  

Here we are lined up to go in, enjoying a respite from the sun 

Unlike the Otis House, where the primary emphasis is on the art and architectural setting, at Paul Revere’s house it is the man himself that is the draw for most of their crowds. Instead of using the house to explain the aesthetics of the period, the house becomes a tool by which to understand the man.  Most people who walk through—or at least those that did when we were there—do not seem to mind the jumble of styles evident in some of the displays and did not notice the varied states of condition and restoration on the objects.  In many ways, theses details get lost under a veil of acceptance of “Colonial Style” and are never questioned.  It’s unfortunate in some ways though, since it would seem relatively easy to teach the staff about the objects in the rooms, and a better consistency of styles might help educate the public subtly (through visual cues) and allow for multiple ways to interpret the space.

The Art of the Americas wing was the highlight of the day for a number of reasons.  First, Gerry Ward the curator of Decorative Arts kindly took us through the galleries, discussing both the objects in the rooms and the types of decisions made regarding the installation and audience engagement.  

Secondly, it has been a tough few years for American Paintings since the Metropolitan Museum is renovating, as is the New York Historical Society.  To be able to see a critical mass of early American Works is a treat, and the Museum’s collection is exceptional.  I also liked the building much more than I imagined I would.  To be certain there were quirks—connecting passages that don’t exactly form a coherent or welcoming transition between disparate galleries—but the building really works.  It let the galleries and the artworks shine, rather than the architect in charge.  It was a nice display of restraint to create something so practical and elegant that allowed the collection to shine.

Looking at furniture in the galleries

Efforts were made throughout the wing to provide context for viewing objects

Throughout the galleries, there were times in different states (some opened, some closed) which I found useful.  Small touches like this made the objects seem less like sculpture and gave a better context to these objects' functions and allowed for different levels of engagement with the material.

Object study and seeing works in person is a crucial part of our educational philosophy.  In hindsight, I am surprised at how little engagement with objects my own education had.  The static nature of slides, and their tendency to make everything seem similarly sized and scaled, presents problems that aren't easily remedied.  While slides are great for plotting the narrative of history, they seem a woefully inadequate substitute for seeing objects up close and being to move around them.  

Gerry Ward was generous with his time and knowledge, making the visit truly exceptional

The museum's holding of Copley's works is particularly impressive.

I also thought that the arrangement of the galleries (essentially a chronological walk through time) worked well.  One might complain that it lacked excitement, or wasn’t original, but it seems to me that this is a perfectly fine approach and one that helps reinforce the museum’s educational mission by providing an accessible narrative to follow.  I particularly liked the use of wallpaper and curators’ efforts to provide context for viewing objects.

Sotheby's Institute in Boston
Day 1


The first field trip of the season has come and gone, 3 days and two nights in Boston.  It was a new trip for the group, since in past years the renovation of the Museum of Fine Arts has made Philadelphia a better option for seeing Colonial American art and architecture, especially in an urban setting.  It was a fairly ambitious schedule but we managed to pack in the following visits (and allow for a bit of free time):


1. Trinity Church
2. Boston Public Library
3. Otis House Museum
4. Paul Revere House 
5. Museum of Fine Arts
6. Vose Galleries
7. Old State House
8. Robert Gould Shaw Memorial

Our first stop (after dropping bags at the hotel) was Trinity Church in Copley Square.  Rain and some scaffolding prevented the desire to photograph the exterior, but the interior was stunning, even without bright sunlight illuminating the stained glass and painted surfaces.  Designed by Henry Hobson Richardson, the church replaced the parish's prior building which burned in Boston's great fire of 1872.  Construction lasted from 1872-77 and contains some of the finest interior design and painting that John La Farge has ever done.  

Unlike the Romanesque feeling that dominated the bulk of the interior, the altar was surprisingly art deco in feel and few were surprised to learn that it was part of a later renovation.  Stained glass is particularly important to the interior of the church which owns fine examples of La Farge's work, William Morris glass (designed by Edward Burne-Jones), a window by the London firm Clayton & Bell, and very bright, French glass from Parisian firm Oudinot.  Less known, but charming in their own right were windows executed by Sarah Wyman Whitman.  The tour was exceptionally good, and guide Anulfo Baez was knowledgeable about the stained glass, the history of the interior commission, and answered any and all questions raised.  Zoe Langosy, the church's Assistant Manager for Art and Architecture Programs, arranged the tour and we are grateful for all the assistance she provided. 


From Trinity Church, it is just a short hop across Copley Square to the Boston Public Library.  Built by McKim, Meade, and White, the building is a real testament to the public spirit that dominated issues of education and opportunity in Boston during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Boston’s Public Library in Copley Square is one of the nicest civic spaces in Boston, and has one of the best collections of art in the city.  It also has a great café, in which some of us were lucky enough to eat.  But the art is the main attraction.  The building’s classical façade forms a nice contrast to Richardson’s Romanesque style evident in Trinity Church, which sits directly across the square.  With a little more time and less rain that day, visitors could easily occupy themselves reading the names of artists, thinkers, and philosophers carved on the library’s exterior. 

Just beyond the exterior doors are a set of large bronze panels created by Frederick MacMonnies.

The logia is dominated by a mural by Puvis de Chevannes, The Muses of Inspiration welcoming the Spirit of Light, and accompanied by eight smaller panels dedicated to the main classifications of poetry, philosophy, and science.  The general scheme is reinforced by specific representations: Pastoral, Dramatic, and Epic Poetry; History, Astronomy, and Physics; and Chemistry and Physics.  The soft, muted tones of the mural reinforce the spiritual, ethereal nature of the scene.  Describing the murals to John Singer Sargent in 1896, McKim wrote: “The Chevannes work is superb in its stately proportions and high ideals, carried out with a breadth that easily makes him a master of his art.  The public have hailed it by common acclaim.”

Turning right at the top of the stairs, we passed through a small room with Pompeiian style wall painting before entering a former delivery room with murals by Edward Austin Abbey, RA.  Abbey, an American living in England created a cycle of murals based principally on Tennyson’s “Idyll’s of the King” that transform the room into a much darker, and more masculine space than the airy, ethereal logia.  The rich faux painted woodwork throughout the room compliment the darker tonality of Abbey’s pre-Raphaelite murals, creating a harmonious interior space.  Although it is nearly impossible to tell by photographs of the space, Abbey built up paint three-dimensionally in spaces and through these elements (many of which are gilded) created a visual dynamism that shifts as one moves through the space. 

Going Back through the logia, towards the other end is a staircase leading to the Sargent galleries on the third floor, where his Triumph of Religion cycle is installed.  These are difficult works to like, even when one appreciates the context and significance of their commissions.  Unlike the exquisite coloration and bravura brushwork one normally associates with Sargent’s work, the figures in the murals are stiff; the poses are static.  Essentially detailing the triumph of the Judeo-Christian tradition, critics at the time accused the image Synagogue of being anti-Semitic and even today it is not difficult to understand why.  Whereas the companion piece Church is depicted upright and strong, Synagogue is seen awash in chaos, blindfolded, and apparently helpless.  Not helping matters either is the sense of stylistic incongruity, likely resulting from the 29 years Sargent worked on the commission. 

Hidden throughout the library were a number of small gems too, and we found it useful while in the library to remember the breadth of the general public that the library serves.  For instance, if the nicely presented exhibition on Winslow Homer’s work for Harper’s Weekly wasn’t a relevation art historically, it was a chance for people not familiar with his work—or familiar with him only as a painter—to see a different side of him, and gain a different understanding of the production of art and the life of artists in the 1860s.  

Just beyond this, however, was among the strangest and most delightful of the museum’s exhibits Louise Stimson.  These small, diorama-like vignettes were varied and charming, depicting Street scenes, a river scene, even an construction excavation in New York.  Not only was there an attention to detail in each scene, but the artist’s choice to dramatically force perspective with converging orthogonals was particularly effective.

Needless to say, it was a busy first day in Boston, with a lot to see. The early morning train ride and plenty of walking left many of us pretty tired.