The MFA acquires a youthful director
A few minutes before 10 yesterday morning, Malcolm Rogers approached Taylor Hart with the good news. It was time for the 11-year-old's coronation. Thanks to her passionate essay, the girl would be running the Museum of Fine Arts. Rogers, the director for a decade, placed a security badge around Hart's neck. ''Director for a day," it read.
''Make the most of it," Rogers said.
Thus began Hart's improbable reign, in which a fifth-grader from the Mission Hill School received a glimpse of life in the MFA's corner office.
The event, meant to publicize the MFA's effort to attract youth, centered on an essay contest. Kids from three nearby schools -- Mission Hill, Farragut Elementary, and Orchard Gardens Pilot -- were given a topic: Describe ''What Art Means to Me."
In 125 words, Hart explained why she likes to draw.
''Some people say that art is just a picture with colors on it but art to me is expressing my feelings, myself, and my soul," she wrote. ''You can have no mistakes in art. Because a brushstroke means anything you want it to."
Rogers, who picked her essay from those of six finalists, welcomed Hart to his office. Over mini-muffins, he told her about his staff (they often ask him for money), the museum's holdings (not only paintings but textiles, too), and the MFA's expansion project.
Hart nodded. All week, she had been telling friends about her gig. Monday night, her mother, Nakia, took Hart to Target to get a new outfit -- a purple sweater and a black skirt. On Wednesday night, Hart's aunt Adrianna did her hair. ''She told me she had butterflies this morning," Nakia reported. ''I told her it's OK. I have butterflies, too."
After breakfast, Rogers and Hart headed to the galleries. She passed the encased lamb in the MFA's current Damien Hirst exhibition. ''That's cool," she said. ''It looks like it's frozen." Rogers showed off one of the museum's most famous works, John Singer Sargent's ''The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit."
Then MFA spokeswoman Dawn Griffin told Hart it was time for a treat. Outside the museum's Huntington Avenue entrance, a 1931 Packard convertible waited. Hart piled in, and the antique automobile made the short journey around the corner to the MFA's West Wing. There, Hart emerged to the clicks of photographers, and to the applause of classmates.
''She's so lucky," said Oona Cullen, 10. ''And she deserves it. I read her essay and thought it was really good. I wish I could be as good a writer as she is."
Inside the gallery, featuring the museum's current exhibition of Ralph Lauren's vintage automobiles, Rogers read Hart's essay to the children. He took questions, answering each, until one of Hart's classmates asked him how much the cars would cost. Rogers didn't say, turning to Hart to explain another side of his job.
''When the press asks you a difficult question, you have to find a polite way to avoid it," Rogers said.
By now, Hart was starting to fidget. She rocked a bit, which she does when she's nervous.
From across the room, her mother motioned, reminding her to smile. She did.
When Rogers finished, Hart slipped away and fell back into the crowd. She held her little brother's hand.
It was not yet noon and Hart was already starting to realize that being director wasn't easy.
''I kind of like how people are paying attention to me," Hart said. ''The excitement, the people, the talking . . . It's like you're famous. But I can understand how Malcolm might get a headache."
Geoff Edgers can be reached at gedgers@globe.com.
