philosophy of borrowing only the very best works, in the very best condition, transporting and hanging them at phenomenal expense – and all this without apparently losing a night's sleep over the question "How many people will actually be interested in these tapestries?"

The answer, as it turned out, was a great number. But even if they had not turned into such successes, these shows and others like them were based on a philosophy that only the best is good enough for the public.

You could argue that this adherence to the very highest standards reflects well on the patrons (the museum's trustees are also significant patrons) of the Met: it's elitism, but it's elitism for everyone. American museums in general reflect the tastes and the collecting habits of their patrons, and the Met in particular seems of a piece with its adjacent, exclusive avenues and their astonishing apartments. Looking after the patrons is something the Met does very well. And the patrons respond well by looking after the Met.

In Patronizing the Arts Marjorie Garber

compares the American experience of artistic patronage with that of various European countries, but she is notably out of date on the subject of France: she thinks commercial income for arts institutions is negligible, not noticing the Louvre's astounding multi-million euro franchising of its name and collections to Abu Dhabi. Her account of the British system concentrates, somewhat bizarrely, on the early years of the Arts Council, and rather dries up in 1965.

The British system involves a mixture of state and private patronage, and the organisations that have done best in recent years are those (like Tate Modern) that have known how to tap both resources. Garber hasn't begun to ask how, for instance, the National Theatre relates to the West End, or how orchestras are funded, or what the BBC does to support classical music. She's in a hurry. She doesn't stop to understand what she's talking about, and her book ends up as a mess – a much tossed salad of haphazard research, cheeky at times and, at others, patronising.