Changing with the seasons at the Cloisters

Autumn at the Met's ever-evolving northern outpost Nothing escapes the march of history, not even The Cloisters, New York's beloved, magical oasis of art and nature. Though time seems to stand still at the Upper Manhattan branch of the Metropolitan Museum, The Cloisters is very much in the moment. This is particularly clear as the seasons change. Barbara Drake Boehm, one of the curators at the Cloisters, realizes that many New Yorkers have visited the galleries, and may be familiar with the collection, but, she says, “It's always changing. It changes with the weather, it changes with the plantings in the gardens, it changes with our special exhibitions.” Fall is the perfect time to spend a day exploring the art and the season at the Cloisters. As the sun slides lower in the sky, the slanting light shines differently through the stained glass windows, spilling pools of jewel tones across the cool stone floors in the Early Gothic Hall. It's a collaboration between nature and art. When the museum was designed, the entire collection of stained glass, save one, was situated to receive natural light. Not only the seasons change. The collection does, too. There are new things to see, and some of them tie in with the outdoor cloister gardens. “We have the blessing of making really important acquisitions in the field of medieval art,” Dr. Boehm said. One of her favorite new works is the 15th century Falcon's Bath tapestry. In rich reds and blues, with fantastic details, it depicts noblemen and ladies in front of a blooming rose arbor, stirring the water, tempting a falcon into its bath. They're seated on a bench of turf, and when one of the garden's fountains was removed for conservation, the new horticulturalist, Caleb Leech, built a reproduction of the turf bench to fill the space temporarily. There are lots of moments at the Cloisters where the art seems to come to life. That's just one. Leech is also busy planting boxwoods, so that when a special exhibition on boxwood sculpture opens in the future, there will be living shrubs to tie in with the works on display. The hops in the garden are just for show, but when the recent Oktoberfest presented through the Spectrum group at the Met was held, there was artisanal beer on hand. Ripe apples on their espaliers outside recall the red fruits in the Cloisters' magnificent Unicorn tapestries, and also yield a surprising side story. The Cloisters, it turns out, has woodchucks. Boehm laughingly described them as “fat and lazy” from munching so many of the garden's ripe apples.

The experience of wildlife can also be found in one of the stained glass roundels in the downstairs gallery. There's an image of gathering quails into a net that offers a fascinating view of how people in the middle ages made things work. In this painting on glass, the fellow herding the unsuspecting birds is hiding behind a wooden plank with a cow painted on it, and two little peepholes drilled out. Either quails are shortsighted, or they had a very talented cow painter in that town. While there are many special presentations and lectures, tours and concerts at the Cloisters, some of the greatest moments are so subtle they might escape notice. In the Gothic Chapel, a knight's stone sarcophagus is being lovingly cleaned with little more than cotton swabs by conservator Lucretia Kargère. In the past year, the transformation has traveled from the neck to halfway down the chest, which works out to about an inch a month. The knight is “gradually losing his blackened patina and turning back to a golden tone,” Boehm said, adding, “It's really exciting to see him emerge.” Visitors who return often and pay attention, find that the pages of the precious illuminated manuscripts are turned seasonally. At the moment, The Belles Heures of Jean de France, Duc de Berry, one of the most famous and beautiful medieval manuscripts in the world, is turned to a page depicting St. Jerome, whose feast day was September 30th. The pages will be turned again in December. Till then, there's still a chance to see the light-hearted illumination. After that, another masterpiece will be on view in its place, proving there's always something new to see. “Something can be ancient, but it can work for us,” Boehm said, “something that you have a sense of reverence about, but you can also laugh about. It's quite a varied experience. If you only come once every 30 years, you might love the Cloisters, but you might experience something entirely different next time. We want people to know that.”