For years, the indomitable Isabel­la Stew­art Gard­ner searched the world for mag­nif­i­cent art­work and filled her home with a tru­ly unique col­lec­tion, with the aim of turn­ing it into a muse­um, which she estab­lished in 1903.

Isabel­la always did things her own way. One day she’d wear base­ball gear to the sym­pho­ny, the next, she’d be seen strolling down the street with zoo lions. It was no sur­prise that she was very par­tic­u­lar about how she arranged her exhibits. They were not orga­nized his­tor­i­cal­ly, styl­is­ti­cal­ly, or by artist. Instead, they were arranged based on the con­nec­tions Isabel­la felt toward the art, a con­nec­tion she hoped to encour­age in her visitors.

Her muse­um delight­ed gen­er­a­tions of Bosto­ni­ans and vis­i­tors with the col­lec­tions arranged exact­ly as she want­ed. But in 1990, a spec­tac­u­lar bur­glary occurred when two thieves dis­guised as police offi­cers stole thir­teen paint­ings, val­ued at $500 mil­lion, includ­ing a Rem­brandt and a Ver­meer. They have yet to be recov­ered, though a $10 mil­lion reward is still being offered for their safe return.

Author Can­dace Flem­ing per­fect­ly cap­tures Isabel­la’s inim­itable per­son­al­i­ty and dri­ve, accom­pa­nied by exu­ber­ant illus­tra­tions by Matthew Cordell.