Museum of Religious Art

While walking around the town of Tandil, we set out to visit the city's museums, but due to a lack of time, we only managed to visit four of the seven that the place currently has. The first one we visited is the one that gives this blog post its title: the Museum of Religious Art, also called the Sacred Museum or the Museum of Religious Art of the High Church of the Most Holy Sacrament (Altos Iglesia Santísimo Sacramento).

As the name suggests, this museum is located on the second floor (first floor in Latin American numbering) at the front of the Cathedral Church of the Most Holy Sacrament (La Iglesia Matriz Santísimo Sacramento), which is the main church in the city of Tandil and the principal center of Catholic worship due to its location, right in front of the town's main square at the intersection of Belgrano and Fuerte Independencia streets.

The museum is open for a limited time. For visitors who are short on time or have a tight schedule, they must organize themselves in such a way that they can carve out a small window to visit it. The museum’s visiting hours are Fridays and Saturdays from 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM, and Sundays from 9:00 AM to 11:00 AM. Admission is free. The estimated time to tour it is brief; perhaps 15 or 20 minutes is enough to go through it, and I estimate some people can even do it in less time. In our case, and due to logistical reasons regarding other tours we did around the city, we visited on a Sunday morning. Limited hours can be an inconvenience due to the reduced flexibility for time management when trying to fit in multiple visits within a short period.

This museum has a website, a blog, and a Facebook profile. Its blog states precisely: "Entrance is through the door on the left wing, where access is available via stairs, or through the right wing, where the elevator is located (for the exclusive use of senior citizens, pregnant women, or people with disabilities)."

However, the reality is that it is not properly signed. As can be seen in the photograph, when we arrived, there was only a small sign placed there, pointing precisely toward the right side of the temple, where the elevator is. Thus, following the indicator sign, we reached the elevator, and once inside—not before—there was another sign inside that read: "The use of the elevator is exclusively for senior citizens, pregnant women, and people with disabilities." At this point, one asks oneself: why aren't they signing things properly? Once inside the elevator, we went up and came out into a library. Since no one was there, we walked forward and peeked through an open door; right there was the museum room, so we walked in and began our tour. As we moved along, we also took photographs. At the other end of the room—since the museum consists of just one long room and nothing else—there was a group of people, surely visitors, chatting in a circle. A woman from the group saw us, walked over, and politely told us that taking photographs was not allowed. She said it nicely, so we put our cameras away to continue the tour. The woman shared some comments with us about the museum, its creation, and its history; she told us about the library available for those who want to research the subject (I would assume historical-religious aspects of the temple) and mentioned some specific objects, such as certain garments (cassettes/soutanes) on display belonging to the period prior to the Second Vatican Council when, among various reforms, one was the clothing, which was previously somewhat different (embroidery, closed collars, etc.). The service was good. Although it wasn't a guided tour, this lady gave us several insights about the museum.

I will pause briefly on the topic of the "ban on taking photographs." First of all, there were very few indicator signs; I only saw one as we left our tour (which was actually the entrance) and another sign—which I now notice closely—located inside the elevator. On a list of six numbered points, the third one stated: "(Verbatim) Preserve the historical-religious heritage of the place, do not take photos or film." I don't know who drafted that anonymous six-point sign, but whoever did could have done a better job and avoided the redundancy of caring and preserving. Furthermore, using the verb "to preserve" to establish a prohibition, as if that prohibition were the only possible way to preserve something. Not only that, but giving momentum and importance to the prohibition (something negative) over preservation (something positive). This primarily suggests to me that it was written by someone who isn't very interested in preserving anything, but rather takes delight in prohibiting something—surely someone from the "Group of museum volunteer collaborators." Next, several members of this group, with this rather senseless prohibition as will be seen later, display their selfishness (in a museum within a religious temple), given that the museum itself has a website, a blog, and a Facebook profile where they have uploaded many photographs, in addition to a few photos they have provided to other webpages for publicity. I ask: is selfishness an attitude inherent to Christian doctrine? I think not.

Now, assuming they are genuinely concerned about the "preservation of the museum's heritage," we must consider several aspects. One aspect is the protection of copyright for one or several works. Another aspect is the preservation of the works against damage that can be caused by flashes or tripods. Let's analyze this: if it were to protect the "copyright" of an exhibited work, a prohibition sign could be placed right next to the specific work—something they did not do. Nor were there many contemporary works, and the few that were there circulate as photographs across quite a few websites, which makes me think this is not the reason for the ban. If it were the danger posed by tripods (large or small), it would simply suffice to state that the use of tripods is prohibited (one could even add the current and popular selfie "sticks" used with some cell phones, lights, screens, etc.). It is true that there were some stained glass windows and glass display cases here, and that prohibition might be justified there, but here everything was outright banned.

The other aspect is the use of flash. The use of flash can be viewed from two different perspectives. One is the disturbance it causes to other visitors when they are observing and enjoying a work of art. It is true that it is annoying, but in my view, this would apply more to works that draw large crowds of visitors rather than a museum that had almost no visitors—we were practically the only ones touring it—and besides, the sign clearly stated "to preserve the objects" and not "to avoid disturbing other visitors." The other perspective regarding flash relates to the damage it can cause; it is true that flash, or excessive flash, can damage certain works, pigmentation, etc. In fact, in the museum they had blocked sunlight from passing through a stained-glass window of the church by covering it with a fabric on the inside to prevent sunlight damage to some works. It is equally true that the sun damages works (paintings or fabrics), but here, in this museum, there were mostly objects that are not damaged by flash, such as chairs or other wooden and/or metallic objects. But even so, if one wanted to "preserve" works such as paintings, clothing, and documents, it would be possible to simply ask that flash not be used—as simple as that, just like in those large, important, renowned museums with works of vastly greater relevance where they do not prevent you from taking photographs. That was not the case here; here they outright prohibited taking photographs and filming. Let's think: what damage can a recording cause that prevents the "preservation" of the works? None. The prohibition established in this small museum, it seems to me, responds more to the mere whim of someone with a touch of selfishness and conceit, or else someone with good intentions but considerable ignorance.

We arrived early, right at 9:00 AM, just as it opened its doors, and as I said before, there was practically no one there, except for that group of four people who were already leaving. We toured it calmly, saw some paintings—mostly representing the Virgin Mary, there were at least four of them, which I imagine have some reference to the Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Conception, which is how the parish temple of the Most Holy Sacrament is named.

Among the exposed objects related to the Christian faith, typical of the liturgy, there were kneelers, chairs, angel statues, crosses, alms boxes, priests' vestments, stained glass windows, rosaries, tabernacles, candlesticks, and several others. Everything was old, bearing inventory dates, many from the late 19th century. And while many of these items were common in their time, the passage of time, their antiquity (and disuse in some cases) turned them into what is now considered religious art. Some paintings were donated by private individuals not as part of a collection (as is often seen in some museums) but as individual works.

The internet states that the museum "possesses more than 2,000 pieces." Clearly, the permanent exhibition room did not hold that quantity; I estimate some might be part of some traveling exhibition, and others, as in many museums, are kept and preserved in a storage room, although the space wasn't very large either and perhaps one day they will expand it. After all, the museum is relatively young, having been inaugurated in February 2002, meaning it is not yet fifteen years old.

That is how we concluded our visit to this museum. This time we left through the left wing, which also served as the entrance; a spiral staircase led us to the ground floor and then out to the exit. Sadly, we left without photographs of this museum—the four published ones are all of the exterior.