Beryl loves that NYC has its very own examples of medieval architecture. She guesses this has confused a lot of people who visit the Cloisters and don’t read the brochures.

There’s something about very old places, the way they conjure the past and stir the imagination. But what about very old buildings that have been moved to a new spot an ocean away? Did all the resident ghosts come with?

Beryl finds the Cloisters to be an odd, anachronistic mental exercise. When she visits historic sites she loves to think about the people who walked across these very stones, gazed at this very view, grazed their foreheads on this same low doorway.

Sat right here, in a patch of warmth from the same but younger sun.

At the Cloisters, however, while one feels invited to think along these lines, the context isn’t right. Of course, this place, NYC, was not home to those people.

Still, Beryl can imagine the hands that carved this stone, the faces that looked through this window, albeit at a very different view.

Then, just as she’s starting to be able to sort out the time/space complexities, Beryl finds herself sharing the 12th-century Romanesque Spanish chapel with a 1967 Balenciaga wedding ensemble.

That’s just a little too much to process. But the mannequin keeps to herself, so Beryl just ignores her.

Were there stitch faces in the Middle Ages?

The Cloisters suits its location so beautifully it does seem as if it were intended to be there, with its commanding views of the Muhheakantuck. And New Jersey.

Beryl doesn’t romanticize living in the past. She does not harbor fantasies about an era without electricity, antibiotics, or New York City.

Still. There are days when a visit to the past is a welcome respite.

Beryl is made from a shirt donated by my sisters-in-law. It was a soft shirt, and so Beryl has a tendency to slouch. Her forehead markings are provided by a perfectly-sized scrap from Bernice. Her dress was the sleeve of a pajama top. Her platform slides are made from ribbon scraps and styrofoam trays (the stitch face foot shape isn’t well suited to sandal-wearing, I have learned), and her bag is a jewelry bag embellished with sequins.

Welcome to America
Where nothing rhymes with America
But who’s complaining
We’re living in the new world
And living the dream
It’s our debut
Welcome to
America
Where everything is new

—from “Something Rotten!”

Thanks to Shania for helping out (again).