Archival interior view of a gallery floor showing exhibition around central well, with collection items jammed into every available space.

 

Reinventing The New-York Historical Society

By Liza Montegomery

NEW YORK CITY -- In a cold and empty fourth floor of the New-York Historical Society, consultant Philip Zimmerman is searching for a working light switch.

"The idea," he says, trying another wall, "is that for someone walking through the front door - wherever that person may go - the Luce Study alternative will be there to make as much of the collection as accessible as possible."

When a light is finally found, the leavings of a three-year-old Adirondack exhibit do little to dim his enthusiasm: Dr Zimmerman is describing an important ally in the fight to bring the society's financial and directional dark ages to a close.

Although a familiar story for many institutions these days, the news of this particular dying endowment, crumbling facility and eventual closing two years ago elicted a more painful response than most. At stake was a venerable 192-year history and reknowned collections of Old Master paintings, Americana and decorative arts; the former, according to some, compromised by the eventual deaccessioning of the latter.

"The Historical Society must now identify its own special niche and audience among all the cultural institutions in New York City," wrote the institution's executive director, Betsy Gotbaum, in Sotheby's catalogs last January. "The auctions . . . are one aspect of a grand plan to reinvent The New-York Historical Society, reach out to new audiences and create permanent financial stability."

Stability drew nearer with the $16 million sale of Giovanni da Milano's "Crucifixion with The Virgin," and Lo Scheggia's "Triumph of Fame," among others (the society reopened with abbreviated hours in May of 1995), but with it came a range of well-publicized and heated responses. Perhaps the hottest was The New York Times' art critic Michael Kimmelman's observation that "[the Society] is hoping to raise money, not to buy other works, as public institutions are supposed to do when they sell art from their collections, but to replenish an endowment . . . if this is the price the public must pay, [it] isn't worth saving."

From supporters came the response that the society could no longer afford to exist as a repository for anything under the philanthropic sun (costs for outside storage alone amounting to $500,000 yearly). According to Wendell Garrett, senior vice president of Sotheby's American decorative arts department and a former New-York Historical Society board member, the more-than-one-million object collection was accumulated, in part, because of the institution's early founding. "It was begun before any fine art museums existed in New York," he said, "hence it had a broader, wider mission."

"I think the fact that it's 192 years old is meaningless," said Ms Gotbaum. "The Museum of The City of New York split off from it, then it was considered a men's club - it had already gone through several changes before its closing [in 1993]."

Well-argued points in the deaccession debate, then, seem to move in wary circles around the society's true nemesis, a kind of decades-old institutional identity crisis which reared its head as finances dwindled, and which hounds it still. Can an organization founded in 1804, with the primary objective of rescuing "from the . . . obscurity of private repositories such important documents, as are liable to be lost or destroyed by . . . those into whose hands they may have fallen," successfully reinvent itself?

Ms Gotbaum, Dr Zimmerman, the New York state Attorney General's office, The Henry Luce Foundation, and possibly even the Museum of The City of New York are betting on it. Talks between the museum and the society (two institutions sharing overlapping missions and programs), began again in October. They continue to be overseen by the city's Commissioner of Cultural Affairs, Schuyler Chapin, and appear less like the arranged marriage of a reluctant bride and groom than they did four years ago. "Betsy is eager to do the important thing," said Dr Zimmerman, "and the historical society is in much better financial condition now."

"Someone [in the press] took this eagerness to hook up to other institutions as desperation," he continued. "Unfortunately, that was based on partial information. Betsy wants to create networks and explore where the synergies lie. Her style is one of cooperation, rather than building a moat around the castle and drawing the drawbridge up."

It can also be said that Ms Gotbaum has taken the castle by storm. She has implemented the dusting off of what was perceived to be the society's outworn creed, its "previously diffuse mission," tapered to the telling of the history of New York City, the region and the state; she has been supported in her efforts by a $10 million "vote of confidence" from the city and the state, used to renovate its headquarters on 170 Central Park West; and she and her army of trustees continue to seek ways in which to develop the location's real estate potential, including renting out its rooms to the public.

And the auctions go on. In March, Swann Galleries of New York will begin a 30-month-long series of sales, estimated to bring $500/700,000, which will offer, among other things, maps, comic books, sheet music, British and Continental books and duplicate materials judged outside the scope of the society's new mission. Hendrik Edelman, a bibliographer hired to head up deaccessioning in 1989, describes the offerings as "largely unprocessed, uncatalogued items of European history that came to the society as gifts."

"Every large collection should go through this periodically," continued Dr Edelman. "The research value of those [materials] is not great; no one would go to the historical society for this."

If the society is a museum, a research library, and a storage facility for a decorative arts treasure trove, what do people actually go there for? This indiscernibility has not only fueled questions regarding collection deaccessioning and plans for reinvention, it has served to further divide the institution's own split personalities. In Dr Edelman's opinion, for example, the organization's library collections "are well defined. It is the museum part that is struggling with its identity."

The society's proposed decorative and fine arts study center, currently in its early planning stages, may shed some much-needed light on the subject. Up on the unused fourth floor, what is now only a gleam in Project Director Zimmerman's eye will become, by 1998 (thanks to $7.5 million, the second largest Henry Luce Foundation grant ever awarded), the society's new and improved central nervous system.

According to the project overview, the center, closely patterned after the highly successful Henry R. Luce Center for the Study of American Art, which opened at the Metropolitan Museum in 1989, was created to "balance the need to house and make available a great number of collection objects with more leisurely (and spacious) opportunity to enjoy the collections." Its most visual feature will be objects, arranged by medium, displayed within a few very large secure cases, capable of holding a handful of people, such as small classes working with collections.

This open atmosphere reflects one of the project's two supporting characteristics, "an architectural setting design," which Dr Zimmerman says will act as the institution's new "permeable membrane."

The second support, and the project's key component, will be a user-friendly computer system, accessible in both the library and the center, which will act as a mediator between these previously separate bodies. Through it, object and library collections can be searched at the same time (by subject, theme, artists, provenance and even donors). "Other museums have been doing this," says Dr Zimmerman, "but we're talking about eventually putting the entire collection, digital images of 1.5 million items, in the system. It will transform [these objects] into a resource that the country has never seen on this scale."

The center's collections will be organized to offer "three levels of experience," the first, a spacious hallway with representative items on the walls and in cases; the second, a highlighted "band" of objects within these items, placed at "optimal viewing heights," chosen to enhance a theme, design or regional expression; and the third will be objects placed above and below this band, for a "denser" installation. The society's staff would also be able to link these displays thematically to the exhibition galleries on the first two floors.

Although first-time visitors are expected to linger in the collection installations, the society believes that returning patrons will gravitate toward the computers.

Opportunities for working relationships between the society and educational institutions might also be enhanced by the center, which could incorporate N-YHS collections into university decorative arts or American studies programs. "The society is discussing the possibility with several sponsors," said Dr Zimmerman, "in order bring what is already an existing practice to a more formal level. This will mean income, but the most important thing is that the collections are used by strong supporters of the institution."

And if the merger with the Museum of The City of New York should go through?

Ellen Holtzman, program director for the arts at the Henry Luce Foundation, believes any changes made in the center would depend on merger specifics. "The point for us is to take the collections out of storage, put them under one roof on the fourth floor, and make them available to people in an open study installation."

"In theory," continued Ms Holtzman, "linking [the center] with the [MCNY] electronically would cause no objection, but it's just too soon to tell."

"One of the reasons why we'd like to know [whether the merger will take place] sooner rather than later is because of its effect on the center," said Ms Gotbaum. "A decision has been made to hire an outside auditing firm to figure out how the numbers work, and we're looking for money to pay for that."

It is ironic, in light of recently attenuated holdings and a revamped mission, that the completed center should so closely adhere to the values of the society's founders, who envisioned a treasury of records and documents. "The society is best known for its library, which has always been its crown jewel and a real haven for scholars," said one former board member. "The center is designed to revitalize this research force, and to bring a balance to the collections."

The New-York Historical Society is at Two West 77th Street. The museum is open Wednesday through Sunday, noon to 5 pm; the library, Wednesday through Friday, noon to 5 pm. Call 212/873-3400 for information.

For those interested in the specifics of the society's shifting financial history and outlook, The New-York Historical Society: Lessons from One Non-Profit's Long Struggle for Survival, has just been published by Jossey-Bass of San Francisco, Cal. Its author, Kevin M. Guthrie, is a former Mellon Foundation research associate and the executive director of JSTORR.