My first visit to the Rose Art Museum at Brandeis was on the occasion of the important exhibition "More than Minimal: Feminism and Abstraction in the ’70s," organized by Susan Stoops in 1996. A couple years later I was also introduced to the riches of the permanent collection by Carl Belz, and I will never forget my amazement as he pulled out one storage rack after another, revealing in turn the works that formed the nucleus of the collection (remarkable pieces by Johns, Rauschenberg, Warhol, and Rosenquist, to name just a few) and more recent acquisitions (a beautiful early work by Ellen Gallagher among them) that showed the ongoing evolution of the museum’s holdings.
Since that time the Rose has been a regular destination for me and for my students -- sometimes for other treasures from the permanent collection, and just as often for the important roster of curated exhibitions that have made the Rose a key venue for anyone interested in contemporary art. There is a generosity that one tends to find in individuals as well as institutions that are really passionate about their art. On more than one occasion I have made arrangements for my students to have their own experience of the wonders in the vault -- a request the museum’s curators and registrar have always been happy to accommodate. Given how willingly the museum has shared its work with my students, from another school, I can only imagine how much Brandeis students have benefited from having this collection right in their midst.
Until this past Monday. That’s when Brandeis’s president and board of trustees, in a secret meeting, and with no advance discussion, decided unanimously to close the Rose Art Museum and sell off the collection. The museum’s director, Michael Rush, was informed of this stunning decision Monday afternoon, and press reports began to circulate by that evening. The museum would be no more as of June 30, the museum’s collection, with an estimated value of $300-350 million, would be sold, and the former museum building would be turned into a teaching facility for the arts. In the double-speak of the university’s initial press release, this decision reflected a "campus-wide effort to preserve the university’s educational mission" as well as "the university’s commitment to the arts and the teaching of the arts."
The motivation, of course, is money. Like so many schools, Brandeis is facing a shrinking endowment. Plus there’s the added hit that some of their key donors have taken from the Bernie Madoff scheme. Plans to address a $10 million budget deficit appeared as a squeeze play, cutting faculty numbers while simultaneously increasing student enrolment. Gazing out at a tough fund-raising environment, the president and trustees suddenly latched onto a source of easy money right in their own back yard. Look at all that art, much of it bought low or donated, which could now be sold high. In one move, the university’s deteriorating fortunes could be reversed. Of course it would have been even better if they’d had this idea a couple of years ago, before the art market began its own decline, but there’s still money out there for work this good.
There are, however, an awful lot of people who think this is actually a very bad idea, and haven’t hesitated to say so, in editorials, by signing polls, mounting letter-writing campaigns, and on campus, in a student rally. Why sell everything, some ask, when the $10 million hole in the budget could be plugged by the price of just one major work? The answer is in the code of ethics enforced by the American Association of Museums and the Association of American Museum Directors, which forbids member institutions from selling art for any purpose other than buying other art (with the National Academy recently drummed out, and excluded from associated museum lending networks, for its decision to sell paintings for desperately needed operating funds). The solution at Brandeis: if there’s no museum, then there’s no rule against selling off university assets for whatever purpose the administration might imagine.
By Wednesday, however, Brandeis president Jehuda Reinharz, perhaps surprised by the speed and passion of the response, had begun to reverse himself. In public meetings and interviews he indicated that the museum would still close, but the art might not be sold right away. In fact maybe they would hold onto most of the collection, and even exhibit some of it from time to time in the new arts center that would replace the Rose. Huh? Just how stupid is this man? Does he plan to have the buildings and grounds department come over, pull the work out of a closet, and pound a nail in the wall to hang it up? One major reason for keeping your art in a museum is that you have a professional staff to track where it is and how it is being handled.
There’s a great deal more to be said about this travesty, and many voices are making those arguments. At its heart, however, it is a matter of art and money. The Rose has a remarkable collection of modern and contemporary art, reflecting years of dedication on the part of museum staff and donors alike. Unfortunately an exciting and aesthetically rich collection is also a valuable monetary asset -- and that’s the only form of art appreciation the school’s board and president would seem to understand.
Martha Buskirk is professor of art history and criticism at Montserrat College of Art, and author of The Contingent Object of Contemporary Art. She is currently working on a new book entitled Seeing through the Museum: Art, Life, Commerce.