Mrs. Pusey was anxious, when she arrived in Cambridge in the summer of 1953, to decorate her Quincy Street home with some original works of art. The Fogg Museum seemed the logical place to look, especially since it loans out a large number of originals. Of the paintings available, however, Mrs. Pusey could find only two to her liking and had to turn to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts for the rest.

This episode illustrates the essential nature of a problem that has grown acute for Fogg since World War II and for which there is no foreseeable solution. According to Museum director John P. Coolidge '35, the problem is this: although Fogg is doing as many things as it can with its material and staff, both of these are limited by the financial resources available to the Museum.

The post-war inflation has cut back the staff, for instance, from 96 persons in 1938 to approximately 60 today. The Fogg's slide collection has an amazing 100 percent circulation, and of the 500 reproductions available for the decoration of student rooms, all but 15 or 20 are loaned out annually.

Too Many Students

Professor James W. Fowle's new course in modern art has illustrated with its difficulties the situation as it directly affects the undergraduate. At the beginning of the term it was oversubscribed by 100 percent forcing Fowle to limit Fine Arts 75 to seniors only. Similar oversubscription is true to a lesser degree in all undergraduate courses, usually by as much as 25 percent. The popular Fine Arts 13 is faced every fall with students overflowing into the aisles, on folding chairs, and practically on the stage. The result is that the auditor is almost non-existent in Fine Arts.

The undergraduate oversubscription is a problem of space and staff, but it also reflects an undercurrent among the nation's cultured that means greater demands on an already overburdened Fogg. Part of the demand comes not from the United States but from abroad, largely as a consequence of the War and our new position vis-a-vis Europe, in culture as well as in finance.

Because of the War's destruction, for instance, the Fogg's library is far more important than it had been as a reference source, and is now markedly superior to any in Germany. The last decade has also witnessed an increased consciousness of American methods. For the first time the Museum is now training personnel for such countries as Egypt, Pakistan, Spain, and Holland. Brazil has also asked for advice on its state collection.

More interesting than the foreign demands, however, are the ones from this country that Coolidge traces to developments in the American cultural outlook. He notes a marked increase in interest for the visual arts and music, accompanied by a similar trend away from literature. It is no secret to today's undergraduate that he does not read as much or as widely as his father's generation did, nor that improved recording techniques have mirrored more music appreciation.

The latter interest is perhaps easily seen, but that in the visual arts may come as a slight surprise. Coolidge has two ideas about the situation. One is that art can appeal to people with little leisure because it has a faster impact than literature. The other is that the visual capacities of immigrants--the Greeks, the French, the Italians--are finally having an effect on our culture. This is because most Anglo-Saxons are less visual by nature than their contemporaries of European stock. The result in American terms, Coolidge says, is that "the average individual is far more cultured visually and musically, and far less cultured verbally than he was twenty years ago."

One manifestation of the visual arts appreciation has been the response to Fogg's exhibitions. One on French drawing attracted nearly 20,000 people in two weeks, and another on Ancient Art drew some 3,000 on the last Sunday of the exhibition. The Museum is therefore producing major shows like the recent Reubens exhibit, in which all but one or two of the Reubens drawings and oil sketches in the country were shown, with some degree of regularity, usually one a year.

If Fogg is unable to cater to the increased demands as well as it might wish, the root of the problem is of course financial. While the University is in a position to meet some of its inflationary expenses by receiving large grants from bodies like the Ford Foundation, the Fogg, as Coolidge says, still "depends to a fantastic degree on endowment and individual contributions." The Government, the foundations, and industry provide little support for the humanities, preferring to allocate their grants to universities, hospitals, and the sciences.

In one respect this benefits the humanities, for wealthy individuals would often rather give their support to organizations that have not had the benefit of strong support from the above groups.

This perhaps is one reason for the great upsurge in private donations to the Fogg. In the past seven years, individual contributions have risen some 75 percent. The figure is misleading, however, because it represents a rise over donations during and just after the War, when Fogg was of necessity quite inactive. Even so, there are fewer large contributors today than ever, probably because the Museum depends fundamentally on what Coolidge terms the "New York-Boston axis," an old part of the country where there are not many oil fortunes made overnight.

Endowment Buys Less

The endowment is a double problem, in the first place because it buys a great deal less than it did in 1938, and in the second because its small size makes the income quite erratic.