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From its foundations, whose thickness once led to suspicions that they were planned as German gun bases, to the crest of its tower, whose weather vane is an outstanding replica of medieval European metal-work, the Busch-Reisinger Museum of Germanic Culture stands as a monument to one of the most checkered careers in Harvard archaeological history.

Back in turn-of-the century days, when the Germanic Museum was first planned, German-American relations were at a peak. Gifts from Kaiser Wilhelm II and other Germans were warmly received by Harvard officials. Adolphus Busch, St. Louis beer magnate and the museum's chief financial benefactor, could comfortably proclaim, at an elaborate 1912 cornerstone ceremony, the on vocation, "Forever live the good entente between Germany and the United States." Five years later, just as major work on the museum was completed, America entered World War I.

The extremely bitter turn of public opinion was exemplified by an Alumni Bulletin letter suggesting that the museum be dedicated to the interpretation of the present German cultural ideals, "death, destruction and dishonesty." The building was not opened to the public until 1921, and then with a minimum of publicity.

With such a decline from the initial enthusiasm for his project, curator Kuno Francke could never achieve his original aim of demonstrating the full development of German art from the Roman Empire to present times, as well as showing the relation of Scandinavian, Lowland, English, Swiss and American art to their Germanic influences. However, during the '20's and '30's the museum enjoyed the heyday of its activities, with a heavy schedule of exhibits, concerts, slide lectures, plays, book collections, sculpture and paintings, and even a children's art center in the basement.

A more modern policy replaced the old goals when present curator Charles E. Kuhn took over in 1932 and proceeded to remove a number of the permanently installed historical plaster casts in favor of original contemporary works and temporary twentieth century exhibitions. Today the museum's collection of modern German painting and Bauhaus architecture and design are considered the best of their kind outside Germany itself.

A pair of murals painted in the museum transept during this period aroused a new furor when their artist, Jacob Rubenstein, was accused of developing his commissioned themes into anti-Nazi propaganda. One of the pictures portrays a figure in jack-boots and a Sam Brown belt whipping a group of slaves, while the other depicts an attack by a party of modernly equipped warriors upon an enemy using shields and spears. The museum, however, still officially denies any direct analogy to the third Reich.

Following America's 1941 declaration of war against Germany, the museum was closed again. The Army used the building to train chaplains and administrators and the only continued museum activities were the Sunday morning concerts on the Baroque organ, which, from 1932 to the present day, have been presented, without major interruption, by E. Power Biggs.

Things looked very dark for Germanic culture at Harvard in 1945, despite curator Kuhn's return from Navy service. Available resources could barely maintain the building for another year, and many of the collections were scattered throughout Fogg and other University buildings. Salvation was achieved only through some timely funds from the Busch family and their in-laws the Reisingers, as well as from the sale of books and lecture slides and rental of parts of the building to other University branches. In honor of their contributions, the museum was named in honor of the two families in 1950.

Not quite as active as during the inter-war period, the museum now continues to replenish its modern art collection and plays host to a fairly steady flow of exhibitions, many of which, like the present Cambridge Art Association showing, bear little relation to Germany.

Lodged in the upper floors of the museum building are the University's Speech and Germanic Language Departments, while the basement contains some of the WGBH studios along with surplus art objects. Among these latter, a number of nationalistic statue replicas given by Wilhelm II will share the fate of their donor's portrait and never see the light of the first floor. The presence of such exhibits would embarrass the museum staff, but only through an act of the Harvard Corporation could they be disposed of legally.

Plans for the expansion of the museum and eventual removal of tenants exist, if at all, far in the back of curator Kuhn's mind. Although the museum has never approached pre-World War I expectations, which also incloded stimulation of similar institutions throughout the country for cultures other than the Germanic, the present management is well satisfied with its contributions towards students and visitors interested in German art as well as in the general enrichment of the Cambridge scene.