LOST COLOURS OF SPRING
Nestled in a quiet, green street a minute away from Boston’s bustling Fenway district is a small palatial complex quite unlike any other building in the city. A century old institution, the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is home to tens of thousands of artworks and sculptures collected by Mrs Gardener during her lifetime. Once her residence, this museum was willed into existence in 1903 to exhibit her staggering art collection “for the education and enjoyment of the public forever".
The courtyard at Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum has a lot to offer at any given time of the year, what with its Venetian architecture, walls that seem to change shape and colour with every passing hour, and a beautiful display of greens and flowers arranged with as much care as its most precious artwork. You’ll notice something different in April though as soon as you walk in.
For a brief three weeks in April, this courtyard is adorned with hanging Nasturtiums, a flowering plant of the appropriately named genus Tropaeolum, Greek for trophy. This 100 year old tradition effectively marks the beginning of spring in Boston. The orange flower was specifically chosen by Mrs. Gardner herself so as to complement the rest of the space.
The process of growing these Nasturtiums from seed starts in June in an offsite greenhouse, and they are tended daily for over nine months until they sprout these bright orange flowers. The blooms last for a mere three weeks though. Imagine all the effort and time and resources that are being devoted year after year just for three precious weeks. Once you’re standing in the courtyard however, it’s not hard to realize that this beautiful display of love and labor is totally worth it.
Thanks to the constant care provided by the former chief gardener Stanley Kozak, these vines can grow to incredible lengths of up to 20 feet. Apparently it takes a team of 10 to transport and install these Nasturtiums, carefully hanging them from the third floor balconies and creating these dramatic yet delicate drops.
The rooms are filled with artworks and antiques, some might even say crammed with objects of both historic and aesthetic value. But during these three weeks they all seem to blur in the background, for this orange glow calls out no matter where you are and continues to hold your attention longer than one would expect. It’s interesting how something so small and fleeting manages to stand out in this manner, perhaps its very transience adding to its value.
As recently as two years back, a host of patrons were to be found ambling through the courtyard or leaning from balconies, trying to capture this transient beauty from every angle conceivable. The oohs and aahs from one corner of the room would be complemented by gentle sighs from the other. A lot has changed in the last two seasons though. We are all living in an era marked by isolation and loss, something that humans and Nasturtiums are both still learning to adjust with.
Mr. Kozak passed away in November 2019 after tending to these vines for almost 50 years, a worthy lifetime of dedication and service. The Nasturtiums will be gone too, gone for the season, and they will be missed by one and all. Some friends will remain though, just as beautiful and just as delicate, who’ll strive to add colour to their surroundings for as long as they can till someone else takes their place.
Is spring ever really lost? I’m still waiting to find out.
P.S. All photographs in this post were taken during April 2019. If you wish to visit the Museum now, please check Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum for the latest schedule and safety guidelines.