Handbook of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts: With 143 Illustrations

In Short

This book serves as a formal, scholarly guide to the permanent collections of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts during its inaugural years. Published in 1917, the handbook acts as a bridge between the museum’s physical architecture and the history of the objects contained within its walls. By documenting everything from classical plaster casts to Impressionist canvases, it provides a snapshot of the cultural values and collection priorities of a growing Midwestern city, capturing the earnest desire to foster public appreciation for global artistic traditions.

The Story

The narrative begins not with a single painting, but with the institutional origin of the museum itself. The reader is introduced to the Minneapolis Society of Fine Arts, an organization founded in 1883 that spent decades working toward the goal of a dedicated museum. The story of its fruition is one of civic cooperation: in 1911, Clinton Morrison donated a ten-acre tract of land, contingent upon the community raising half a million dollars for construction. The swift fulfillment of this pledge by local citizens, led by William Hood Dunwoody, marks the transition from a vision to a physical reality, culminating in the opening of the Institute’s main building in 1915.

Once the institution is established, the book shifts its focus to the interior of the galleries, organizing the collection by period and geography. The journey starts on the first floor, which centers on the "Cast Collection"—an essential component of early-twentieth-century art education. Because original masterpieces were often inaccessible, the museum relied on high-quality plaster reproductions to teach visitors about the evolution of sculpture from Ancient Greece through the Renaissance. This section sets a tone of rigorous, chronological study.

As the reader moves through the various departments—Egyptian, Near Eastern, Chinese, and Gothic—the tone shifts from educational theory to specific appreciation. The Egyptian wing, fueled by the acquisition of the Drexel Institute collection, is presented as a window into the daily life of the Nile, while the Chinese galleries explore the "discouraging uncertainties" of dating ancient bronzes and jades. The text carefully balances historical context with descriptions of material quality, encouraging the reader to look closely at items like Ming Dynasty porcelain or Flemish tapestries.

The transition to the second floor marks a change in focus toward modern European and American art. Here, the narrative becomes more critical, analyzing how the late nineteenth-century shifts in technique—from the sober tonality of the Munich school to the luminous, light-drenched canvases of the Impressionists—reflect broader changes in culture. The book concludes by highlighting specific private donations, such as the Martin B. Koon Memorial Collection, and detailed descriptions of specialized spaces like the Bradstreet Room. By the end, the reader has a clear sense of the museum’s layout, its academic goals, and the specific aesthetic lenses through which its curators interpreted the history of human creativity.

How It Unfolds

The call to action The book begins by detailing the civic effort required to build the Institute, emphasizing the partnership between wealthy donors and the public. It establishes the museum as a necessity for a developing community.

The instructional foundation The tour begins with the cast collection, justifying the use of plaster copies as vital pedagogical tools. This section stresses the study of form and composition over the missing qualities of texture and color.

The survey of antiquity The focus shifts to the historical breadth of the collection, moving through the Near East, Egypt, and Asia. Each section acknowledges the limitations of current knowledge, particularly regarding the dating of ancient Chinese objects.

The evolution of Western craft The text moves into the late medieval and Renaissance periods, highlighting the role of decorative arts like tapestries and lace. It frames these objects as markers of social history and technical virtuosity.

The modern transition The final section examines nineteenth-century painting, tracing the movement from academic realism to Impressionism. It uses the collection to explain how artists began to prioritize atmosphere and light over rigid historical storytelling.

The People

The book is defined by the efforts of the figures who curated and donated to the collection. Joseph Breck, the Director, serves as the primary voice, carefully distinguishing his own scholarly focus on earlier art periods from the work of his assistant, Harry B. Wehle, who handles the modern nineteenth-century acquisitions. Together, they act as intermediaries, translating complex historical movements for a public audience.

The patrons are equally central to the narrative. Clinton Morrison and William Hood Dunwoody appear as the architects of the museum’s existence; without their initial gifts of land and capital, the collection would not have found a home. In the gallery descriptions, other figures emerge, such as Mrs. E. C. Gale, whose donation of Chinese porcelain shapes the visitor's experience, and the namesake of the Bradstreet Room, whose personal taste for Oriental art dictates the aesthetic of that specific gallery. The artists themselves are also treated as characters—from the "titanic contempt" of Gustave Courbet, who rejected the artifice of his predecessors, to the "joyous and spontaneous" Joaquin Sorolla, whose work is described as having an infectious vitality. These individuals, whether financiers or painters, drive the development of the museum and define its character.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the educational philosophy behind the museum's reliance on historical reproductions:

Through these mechanical reproductions, it is possible to obtain a fairly adequate idea of the great masterpieces of sculpture, that are inaccessible to many, except in this form.

On the specific challenges inherent in studying the early history of Eastern art:

The study of ancient Chinese art is attended by discouraging uncertainties.

Regarding the dramatic change in artistic focus during the late nineteenth century:

Certainly there exist in nature charms of color in shadow, rich varieties of pure tone in sunlight which none of us suspected until the Impressionist painters insisted upon them.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that art is an essential component of civic health and that a museum acts as a public classroom. Beneath the descriptions of objects lies a persistent inquiry into how we learn to see. The text frequently addresses the problem of distance—whether it is the geographical distance between Minnesota and the ancient world, or the chronological distance between the Renaissance and the modern era. The museum’s mission, as presented here, is to collapse that distance through careful preservation and scholarly interpretation. It argues that by studying the evolution of styles, from the "raw material" of Courbet to the "filmy" grace of Robert Reid, the public can develop a more refined and purposeful engagement with the world.

Why Read It Today

This book is a fascinating artifact for anyone interested in the history of museums or the evolution of American cultural identity. It captures a specific moment in 1917 when the Midwestern United States was asserting its place on the international stage by gathering, cataloging, and displaying the world’s artistic heritage. For a contemporary reader, the experience is akin to walking through a time capsule; the prose is formal, measured, and deeply respectful of the educational mission of the era.

The reader should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes of 1917, particularly regarding the "pompous artificiality" of earlier centuries and the occasional eurocentric framing of global art. While some of the curatorial perspectives—such as the reliance on plaster casts—feel obsolete, they provide valuable insight into how art was consumed before the era of high-resolution digital access. You will likely find the descriptions of specific works, like the "creamy texture" of an Emil Carlsen painting or the technical difficulty of creating fine lace, to be remarkably evocative. It is not a quick, breezy read, but rather a slow, deliberate guide that rewards those who appreciate the quiet, steady work of institution-building. It leaves you with a heightened sense of the labor involved in bringing the distant past into the light of the modern gallery.