I had nearly a whole day to kill in Boston so I decided to seek out the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, a place I had heard much about since my husband Carl’s sabbatical in 1992.

You see it was here that Carl participated and experienced the sound of women’s chant in the atrium. A former parishioner of the Church of the Advent, Isabella apparently left money in her estate to have the women sing chant here in her memory every year.

Isabella Stewart Gardner was born in New York City on April 14, 1840 into a well-to-do family. Her father, David Stewart, made his fortune importing Irish linen and later through investments. Over the years, Isabella amassed a fortune in the artwork of medieval, Renaissance, Impressionistic, Chinese, and Dutch artists, including many large tapestries. This building was not her house—it was always designed as a museum, Fenway Court, which opened in 1903. She wanted to fill it with beautiful things; her motto being , “c’est mon plaisir;” it’s my pleasure.

It was because of this experience that Carl decided that HE wanted the same kind of music for his funeral. In spite of all the complex music he had performed (namely the works of Bach), it was the simple, the purity of women singing plainsong, with sweet melodies wafting up towards heaven, that appealed to the core of his being.

As I walked through the Museum, I could see why Carl liked this place so much—it is filled with ecclesiastical art.

There is an even bigger story than the Museum itself, and that is the story of what happened on March 18, 1990, when 13 works of art valued at a combined total of $500 million were stolen in the space of 81 minutes! from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. In the early hours, guards admitted two men posing as police officers responding to a disturbance call. Once inside, the thieves tied up the guards and over the next hour committed the largest-value recorded theft of private property in history. Despite efforts by the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and multiple probes around the world, no arrests have been made and no works have been recovered. The museum initially offered a reward of $5 million for information leading to the art’s recovery, but in 2017 this was temporarily doubled to $10 million, with an expiration date set to the end of the year. This was extended into 2018 following helpful tips from the public. (Wikipedia)

I took pictures of the empty frames.

Here is a short video of what happened:

It is a spectacular day in Boston, with the temperatures in the low 70s, cool winds and blue skies. I couldn’t resist taking photos of the pretty flowerbeds along the sidewalks.