The Cloisters: Middle Ages in MOdern Times

Text and Photography by Liisa Berg

oused in a monastic structure on the highest land formation of the island of Manhattan, looking like an imposter on the soil of this young nation, stands The Cloisters. A branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it consists of an elaborate collection of pilasters, columns, abbeys, windows, doors, and notable pieces of art and artifacts from Medieval Europe.

Much like The Victoria and Albert Museum in London which houses mammoth architectural and art treasures from all over the world, The Cloisters symbolizes a bit of one person's desire to be close to the glories of ages gone by in foreign lands, but in this case it not only represents the folly of the wealthy—the best that money can sustain—but it also attests to American ingenuity. Unlike the exhibits at The V&A which are housed in splendid halls built separate from the objects d'art themselves, at The Cloisters the riches are put together to form a cohesive edifice, the bits and pieces actually making up both the building itself and the artifacts at the same time. It is an instant flashback into history, bringing the mountain to Mohammed so to speak, for some seventy years ago none of it existed on the American continent. Call it looking for roots or yearning to be close to one's cultural heritage, but bit by bit, stone by stone, the Middle Ages of Europe were methodically transferred to America.

It was the American sculptor George Gray Barnard who masterminded and performed the purchase and arranged the transportation of the pieces to New York. The segments had adorned churches, castles, forts and monasteries in France, Italy, Spain, Flanders and the Netherlands; some lay forgotten in the fields and barnyards of owners who saw no intrinsic value in them. Barnard displayed his cultural treasures in a special building in the city for a time, but it was not until he put his collection up for sale that official interest was piqued. Enter the Rockefellers, and you have a perfect marriage of money, power and purpose.

In 1925 John D. Rockefeller purchased the entire collection for The Metropolitan Museum of Art, ensuring its continued exhibition. He added some forty Medieval sculptures from his own treasure trove. Subsequently, Mr. Rockefeller also donated to New York City the land that became Fort Tyron Park: the northern hilltop became the spot for the meandering edifice where the collection found—or became—a permanent, meaningful home.

Bringing all the pieces together into a cohesive museum must have been formidable. It is even harder to imagine that all the cloisters with pillars and curving arches and vaults were actually transported, stone by stone, from their original homes in Europe. Nevertheless, the old cloisters now exist in an impressive setting, all part of the massive monastic edifice. That fact of the matter is, however, that the visitor to these halls has no clue as to the artifice involved here: behind the substantial cloisters, halls and abbeys are the modern means of supporting the structures, heat and air-conditioning ducts, electrical lines, and plumbing and steam pipes. Stained-glass windows glow with the light from hidden electrical fixtures, and alarms are set off if a visitor goes too close to a precious object.

After four years in construction, The Cloisters opened in 1938. In the opening ceremony. Mr. Rockefeller revealed his intentions in financing such a task. He suggested that the museum would help solve "the increasingly large problem of leisure by supplying the cultural and uplifting value of beauty." His aim is being realized. Visitors come here by the bus loads, representing all ages and social backgrounds. School children and students of art, architecture and history come here with their notebooks and sketch pads to transfer some of what they see and experience on paper. Their efforts are well rewarded, for here they steep themselves in ancient history, artificial and mixed with modernism though it may be, and find that enrichment in study of beauty that Mr. Rockefeller was referring to.

Each gallery represents a different time and place. For example, the Romanesque Hall from France is adjacent to the Fuentiduenña Chapel from Spain, laden with ecclesiastical treasures from Italy, Flanders and the Netherlands; next is the multi-vaulted twelfth-century room from a Benedictine Abbey in France, which faces the large central square comprising the Cuxa Cloisters from the Northern Pyrenees. The Cuxa Cloisters is flanked by further exhibition rooms full of Medieval art treasures from Central Europe, all beautifully preserved and presented.

Some of the most spectacular art treasures in The Cloisters are the Nine Heroes Tapestries and the Unicorn Tapestries. The mounting of the Unicorn Tapestries spurred a renewed fascination with the legendary , although possibly fictional, unicorn.

The Unicorn Tapestries Room offers a collective representation of the whole of The Cloisters: the very entrance to the room is through a massive sixteenth-century French doorway made of volcanic stone, bearing two unicorns supporting a shield; the large hall is made in the likeness of a nobleman's room and includes a covered beaker from Germany made of narwhal tusk and regarded for centuries as the horn of a unicorn; the limestone fireplace, in flamboyant Gothic style, is from France; and installed in the late-Gothic windows are panels of stained glass from Flanders, containing the coat of arms of Emperor Maximilian I among others.

The Unicorn Tapestries have been the object of intense study and speculation, and a great deal has been learned from the weaving methods and interpretations. In true Medieval spirit, the meaning of the seven tapestries is infinitely symbolic, combining elements of religion, peasant life and amorous aspects of human nature. With the weavers and commissioners long deceased, it is impossible to affix any decisive meaning to these wonderful works of art. Suffice to say that here are some magnificent examples of human endeavor. An interesting sideline is the fact that plants from which the weavers extracted their dies for the yarns—namely madder, weld and woad—are grown in the garden of the Bonnefont Cloisters. Gardens are designed and vegetation selected according to information collected from Medieval treatises and literature, garden documents and works of art.

Not much has changed in The Cloisters since it opened, and if something is added, it is done quietly and indiscreetly. One such addition is the renovated and enlarged gallery exhibiting some precious objects. But even this is in keeping with authenticity of the idea behind The Cloisters: all Medieval churches and monasteries had their treasuries, and thus this exhibition hall is aptly named The Treasury. Small liturgical objects, such as ivory combs used to primp the priest for Mass; a liturgical fan to keep the insects away from the altar; and a copper, gilt and enamel dove used for the symbol of the Holy Ghost are exhibited behind glass. Extraordinary examples of Gothic manuscripts are also on display, such as the Belles Heures, or the Book of Hours, originally used to count the canonical hours of prayer. The book on display is beautifully illustrated in vivid colors. Other objects include copper, enamel, gold, ivory and wooden carvings and works of graceful detailing.

A tour through The Cloisters will undoubtedly paint fanciful pictures of life in the Middle Ages —perhaps better than warranted, for, as Thomas Hobbs wrote, it was "nasty, brutish and short." So one must assume that life then was not as sterile, uncluttered and immaculately clean as this museum might suggest. However, the artistic experience that The Cloisters offers as one meanders through the halls, galleries and gardens, will enliven the soul and beckon one back for more.

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