Art Review: Claude Monet at Museum of Fine Arts Boston

I haven’t written anything about the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston other than the news that its staff decided to unionize last fall. That doesn’t mean I don’t adore the MFA and think it’s one of America’s best museums. I do, on both counts. Its 150th anniversary season is nearing its end, and it’s got a striking and breathtaking show of its 35 paintings by Claude Monet (1840–1926). I spent a good afternoon there last week, seeing Monet in Boston: Lasting Impressions and visiting my favorite American things.

I think of the MFA in three ways. First, its collection is splendid. Boston isn’t a big place, but its wealth and discernment are historical facts. Bostonians bought well, early, and adventurously, and much of their art came to the MFA. Second, I think “fraught” and “MFA” go together. Its inner conflicts are unusual and many. As a curator and director of sister museums, I learned about many of these as they unfolded. The big donors I knew are either dead or non compos mentis, but their incessant, quirky complaints about the MFA shoot pellets of bile from the labels and plaques bearing their names, or they seem to.

About the Author

Brian T. Allen

Brian T. Allen is National Review’s art critic.

I haven’t written anything about the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston other than the news that its staff decided to unionize last fall. That doesn’t mean I don’t adore the MFA and think it’s one of America’s best museums. I do, on both counts. Its 150th anniversary season is nearing its end, and it’s got a striking and breathtaking show of its 35 paintings by Claude Monet (1840–1926). I spent a good afternoon there last week, seeing Monet in Boston: Lasting Impressions and visiting my favorite American things.

I think of the MFA in three ways. First, its collection is splendid. Boston isn’t a big place, but its wealth and discernment are historical facts. Bostonians bought well, early, and adventurously, and much of their art came to the MFA. Second, I think “fraught” and “MFA” go together. Its inner conflicts are unusual and many. As a curator and director of sister museums, I learned about many of these as they unfolded. The big donors I knew are either dead or non compos mentis, but their incessant, quirky complaints about the MFA shoot pellets of bile from the labels and plaques bearing their names, or they seem to.