I visited the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum only recently after living in the Fenway for over a year, not even a mile from the museum. I was immediately blown away by not only the architecture and design of the building, the beautiful courtyard with its exotic plants, but also the caliber of art that graces every hall and vaulted room. I fell in love with the un-museum like museum, and felt none of the cold, claustrophobic organization that most art museums create. These were all one woman’s acquisitions, collected because she thought they were beautiful and worth having. And for years the 2,500 pieces hung on the walls, sat on the bureaus, and decorated the villa just as Isabella had left them. It was the homey, trusting feeling of the museum that eventually led to the largest art heist in American history, right in my backyard.
I did not notice all 11 empty frames, or the two empty spaces that the Chinese Ku and the Napoleonic finial left behind. I did see the wall of Degas sketches that were no more, containing a simple note saying they were stolen in the March 18, 1990 heist. I enjoyed the rest of my visit and soaked up the culture and history that permeates the estate. Two weeks later, speeding through Barnes and Noble, I spotted a book, The Gardner Heist, and the haunting empty frame on the cover reeled me in, as did the story the book told.
Th author, Ulich Boser, became the next in a line of private instigators, lawyers, at enthusiasts, and regular old people that became obsessed with the Gardner caper. He wrote a well-researched history of the case and and the progress that has regrettably not been made in the near 20 years since the theft. Through his interviews and letters, and trips abroad, I, too, became enthralled by the case and am now a bit obsessed myself. I will admit, I’m going to the museum again on Thursday, and I also volunteered to work there. It is the boldness of the theft, as well as the sheer volume and quality of art that was stolen that is really unbelievable. Th Gardner Heist is not a kitschy novel about glorified thieves, but rather a documentary of those of us left behind, without the grandeur, beauty and history of the paintings to observe. Boser laments the loss of the pieces, without giving up all hope of them ever returning to their frames in Isabella’s estate. In fact, he, in my opinion, accurately outlines the remaining suspects in the case, and if this case is to ever be cracked, be assured that the answer is hidden away somewhere in the pages of his book, just waiting for the right circumstances and evidence to pin down the haughty, selfish thief that orchestrated the heist that still leaves a bad taste in the mouth of art loves and investigators alike.
No comments:
Post a Comment