A life committed to beauty, benevolence, and quirks - Awesome

She scandalized Victorian Bostonian society when she wore a Boston Red Sox hat band to a symphony performance; she led women’s suffrage movements, and established one of Boston’s most eclectic and stunning art museums.

Yes, not just the benevolence, but the quirkiness of Isabella Stewart Gardner (1840-1924) most fascinates me. She caught my attention when I walked through the posh and historic Back Bay section of Boston last week. As we admired the beautiful grand estates on Beacon Street, we noticed a sign indicating that the house number 152 had been retired after the demise of Gardner’s home.

Now, that is an interesting concept, I decided. Long before athletic enterprises retired their stars’ jersey numbers, Boston city administrators reconfigured the numbers on Beacon Street to memorialize this woman’s home. I had to learn more.

We found her museum in the Fenway neighborhood the next day. Gardner and her husband travelled the world in the late 1800s collecting art. Their collection so filled the famed house on Beacon Street that following Jack Gardner’s death, Isabella purchased a marshy area in Fenway to build a museum. The art museum opened in 1903 and thanks to a generous endowment from Gardner, today stays mostly intact as she established it.

We entered a gallery of ancient Chinese art, not knowing just what to expect when we encountered the centerpiece of the museum – a breathtaking four-story atrium garden filled with orchids, water features, and oodles of greenery that she patterned after a Venetian palazzo. All rooms and galleries of the museum flow from the sun-filled courtyard. One gallery features a collection of doors and stained glass. Upstairs, we viewed a myriad of religious art and collections of letters and postcards from around the world.

Gardner procured her prized artwork in a most sporty manner. She admitted in letters that acquiring some of her possessions required bribery, smuggling, and trickery.

A reputation for stylish taste and unconventional behavior, Gardner purchased a great assortment of art for personal enjoyment, but preserved it for future generations. She was a reported fan of the Boston Symphony, the Red Sox and Harvard football, hence the Red Sox hat band worn at the Symphony. Thanks to Gardner’s love for beauty, generous spirit, and quirky nature, Harvard Library employs a florist to arrange fresh flowers every day.

Local press of the day followed her escapades and gossiped regularly about her. In responding to stories of unscrupulous activity that scandalized Victorian Bostonians, the candid Gardner stated “don’t spoil a good story by telling the truth.” This socially progressive woman entertained artists and intellects shunned by other Back Bay hostesses.

Through all the pomp and excitement reported of her life in the press, she was no stranger to personal tragedy. Her son, “Jackie” died at the age of two, and she is buried between her husband and son. A two-year depression followed the passing of her child, and Gardner’s husband took her on an overseas tour that kicked off her art and travel fascination. She travelled the world, meeting people, sharing stories and culture, and acquiring the artwork of these cultures. Later, her brother-in-law died, leaving Gardner and her husband to adopt and rear his three children. The eldest of the children took his life at the age of 25.

After sorrowful and traumatic events, Gardner girded up her life to create meaning, enjoyment, and legacy. She gave her time, talents, and money to preserve beauty in the world, and in terms of resilience, I would say, she serves as a model.

So, if you send a letter to 152 Beacon Street, no such address exists anymore, as some of the best legacies are but a memory.