Fogg is essentially a private organization, hit hard like all of its kind by the inflation of the American economy, and torn by obligations on every side. Many of the obligations are long-term ones, with the result that the Museum's ability to meet them can be measured only imperfectly at best. Coolidge expresses his own working philosophy of the situation: "when understaffed, you do the things that produce the quickest results."
Because of the width and variety of Fogg's obligations, Coolidge says--using a clause he would love to find true--"if money were no issue, there would be a startling difference in the quality and quantity, but not the range" of the Museum's activities. He has some interesting theories on new activities but is afraid of overextending himself and his staff when there is so much that might be done to fulfill the demands of the divergent pulls on Fogg.
There are some areas where the Museum, whether for good or ill, has what Coolidge terms, "more unique responsibilities." One is illustrated by the fact that the Graduate School of Design trains a frighteningly large percentage, one-half, of all the professionals--the art historians, professors, and museum people--working in the field of Fine Arts in the United States. Several other graduate schools--New York University, for example--are currently matching Harvard in quality, but fall far below in quanity. Coolidge hopes that others will come into the field to lessen the University's burden. "There is nothing," he says, "that we would welcome more than a decrease in this responsibility."
Another of the Fogg's unique responsibilities is its collection of Oriental Art, by far the best in this country. There still is a great deal that might be done here, but once again the staff shortage is a serious handicap.
Amid the pressing obligations to the Graduate School, to the field of Oriental Art, to professionals in foreign countries, and to the Cambridge community itself, Fogg has a strong duty, perhaps not "unique," to the Harvard undergraduate. Coolidge would like nothing better than to be able to channel some of the effort spent on graduates to the undergraduates.
Located in the heart of the College, the Museum provides the space and facilities for most of its Fine Arts courses, sections as well as lectures, but this is the basic and not the sum of its undergraduate activities. For one item, Fogg lends reproductions to students. It is always expanding this service, now that it charges minimal rental fees, which are plowed back into the program. The number of reproductions has tripled in the past four or five years.
Fogg's other services for the undergraduate encompass such scope, and the museum is so understaffed, that "what is carried out varies tremendously with the demand and the need." What Coolidge has to do in most cases is leave the initiative up to the undergraduate himself, with a resulting shift in emphasis from year to year.
Fogg has thus spread itself as thin as it can. Further ideas have sometimes failed to materialize and others would result in certain overextension of the Museum's faculties. In the first category is the support of undergraduate painting. Coolidge has experimented with it from time to time but response has never justified the drain on space and staff.
In the latter category is Coolidge's inspiration for a complete photography department, with courses and exhibitions. No American university has so far touched the subject, although the artistic approach to photography would obviously create wide interest. But it is merely an idea now: Coolidge can only say he would like to see it done.
That it can only be an idea is perhaps indicative of the problems that Fogg has yet to solve: the staff limitations above all, and the financial troubles that lay behind them. The there are many obligations and the unique responsibilities.