Provenance

Cleveland is one of the great cultural centers of the United States - its orchestra has for a long time been known as the best in the country, and its art museum is world class - but I've never had occasion to go there, or, really, to form any sort of idea of the place. Casting about for somewhere we might combine with our spring break trip to Columbus, I finally had the chance. We stayed within walking distance of the Cleveland Art Museum, and having arrived last night, easily spent most of today there. Our journey began with a CMA icon, the over 4000-year old Anatolian statuette, "The Stargazer." There were few other patrons, so we mostly had the galleries to 

ourselves, but as I was marveling at a 3rd c. CE statue of Jonah spit out by a not-quite-whale, part of the collection known as the Jonah Marbles, a museum guard with a French accent came over. These are among the most famous objects in the museum, he told me, but nobody really knows how or even whether all the objects in the collection belong together. Part of what is great about this museum, he added, was that it doesn't pretend to know more about the provenance of its works than it does. This proved true, and added to the pleasure of encountering works none of which I had seen before. My usual museum misgivings - how did this wind up 

here? - were somewhat muted by their honesty about the vagaries of the movements of objects across time and space. This stunning and rare Byzantine Egyptian tapestry icon was acquired from a Mrs. Paul Mallon in 1967, the online collection explains, but how she got it is unknown. Mrs. Mallon was the source also of a pair of 13th c. angels, 

whose caption was wonderfully tentative: Surviving in fragmentary condition, this pair of angels lacks lower arms, hands, wings, and attributes. Their original paint and gilding, now almost entirely lost, once rendered their garments a rich brocade and their hair a luxuriant gold. Nonetheless, in their graceful poses and sublime 

faces - which may portray tragic interest, anguish, or deep concern - thei original delicacy and power are still evident.... Sublime in another way was this large early 14th century German carving of Christ and his beloved disciple, which put me in mid of the queer mystical idea I encountered a decade ago that they may have been betrothed at Cana. The caption here somewhat disappointingly mentions only John's resting his head on Jesus' "shoulder" (usually it's the "breast"), with no reference to the incredibly tenderness of the hands, but no matter. The work, like everything in this museum, was displayed in such a way as to allow 

the viewer to truly engage it. 

I could go on and on about other discoveries in this stunning collection, but I'll finish with just two more, one from the famous Asian collections. This 6th c. CE marble stele of Shakyamuni (with Maitreya on the back) is the focal point of their China gallery and deservedly so. (It arrived here in 1993, provenance otherwise unclear.) With hand gestures of "fearlessness and gift giving" and a beatific entourage this Buddha radiates calm and care. Quite the opposite of what I found in the one work I knew - and didn't know was here - which I stumbled on in a final sprint through galleries we'd not had time for, Zurbarán's  "Christ and the Virgin in the House at Nazareth," c. 1640. I encountered this haunting work in a book in Paris twenty years ago and was devastated by it. If you look closely at this imagined scene of Jesus' childhood, you'll notice a pinprick of blood on his fingertip and, just as small but just as cosmic in power, tears on Mary's cheeks.

I don't know how this stunning collection (not all the art was religious by the way, despite my selections!) was assembled here, where the Cuyahoga river flows from Indian-despoiled land into Lake Erie, but it involves complicated legacies of history and wealth of which I'd heretofore been unaware. Grateful to have spent some time here.