The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
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    The Art of the Steal

    Above is the official trailer for The Art of the Steal, which we watched last night. Below is a brief look at the artwork by some of the docents. The premise of the documentary is that Dr Barnes amassed a large collection of modern art before it was widely appreciated, and left specific instructions to leave his collection as the centerpiece of an educational institution. After he died, and after one devoted follower passed away many years later, though, forces in the art and charity industries like Annenberg, Pew and the Philadelphia Museum of Art moved in to subvert his wishes.

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    Have you ever been to Merion, PA? It's about 15-20 miles north-northwest of Philadelphia. 

    I've followed this story for a while.  My mom still lives in a suburb of Philly, and my sister works in Philadelphia.  I have always loved The Philadelphia Museum of Art.  It has a wonderful and varied collection of its own.  I try to check out the Marcel Duchamp section every time I go to Philadelphia for a visit.  

    I haven't seen the movie yet, but from reading the press accounts (not the press accounts of the film, the press stories about all the wheeling and dealing), I'm still not sure what all the outrage is about. Sure there was a huge fight over this collection. It is probably the greatest private collection ever assembled by anyone not named Medici ... and maybe even including them.  But the collection ended up being moved from an out of the way location to one where a LOT more people are going to be able to see it.  And it was moved to a location that inside, recreated almost exactly the old location's dimensions and feel. So, what's the harm?


    The harm is that what happened was exactly what Barnes wrote his will to prevent. The Philly art establishment savaged early shows of his collection, thus he had little use for them, or for Annenberg or for museums that used art as a backdrop for exclusive parties. He had seen the collection of one of his lawyers grabbed by PMOA, and he tried his damnedest to prevent that happening to his. He wanted to maintain his collection as he had designed it, and he primarily wanted it to be an educational resource, not to be loaned and/or sold, or even displayed that widely.

    It took a long time, but eventually his will was disregarded in favor of institutions with money and influence. Roger Ebert wrote, "What is finally clear: It doesn't matter a damn what your will says if you have $25 billion, and politicians and the establishment want it."


    Right, but other than that ...

    Okay, seriously, the question, it seems to me is, where does the will of one person, even a great one, even a visionary, have to give way to a changing reality?  Things change in Life, in ways that we can't always envision, no matter how brilliant and forward thinking we may be. 

    I understand and respect Barnes' desire to have his collection stay a certain way in a certain place.  I also understand the Foundation he created to preserve things just the way he wanted them kept telling everyone they were going broke from lack of income.  Would it have been better to have them declare bankruptcy and sell off the collection piece by piece?  At what point do they get to do something to preserve his overall vision of keeping the collection together?  I'm not condoning all the scheming and manipulating that went on, mind you, but ultimately, the collection was kept together and isn't that the most important thing?


    It could have been worse, but the Foundation could have continued, too. The claims that they were going bankrupt didn't seem that believable as presented — every old building needs maintenance — and came from a board stacked by Pew and Annenberg. The mistake Barnes made was in relying on Lincoln University, a relatively small, historically black institution, as a bulwark against the influence of the others. Perhaps a better-endowed college could have afforded to say no to all the largesse.


    Well it's hard work being a wealthy control-freak dictator in the literal sense of the word, and even tougher trying to do it from the grave for eternity!cheeky

    Here's a good point/counterpoint discussion on the new site, Jerry Saltz & Justin Davidson: The Philadephia Story

    I'm with Saltz, who at the same time conceding that the madman was onto something says Soon the dust will settle, the feuds will fade, and art will do what it does. Till then, remember this: Owners of art are temporary caretakers. Their wishes are not to be sacrosanct in perpetuity

    I would not have guessed that you would be supportive of the pro-founder side, given that you don't like people having to use automobiles to reach far flung suburban locations. They did after all, still try to keep the gist of the thing he cared most about, his method of display.

    I will say that In a lot of arguments about this, what pops out clearly to me a is misleading confusion of preservation of manmade objects with preservation of curatorial technique. You might be more sympathetic to seeing gray lines of demarcation between the two, being an architect, as preservation of buildings carries with it a lot more societal consequences pro and con.

    But when you're dealing with movable objects. I really don't see the need to preserve a curator's vision in reality in perpetuity if there are photographs and catalogues of the presentation. Unless you think the curator's art is more important than the artist's art (not a joke--this argument can be seriously made.) It's sort of dictatorial and arrogant to think you can take over and control the message between artist and viewer in perpetuity.


    • P.S. I am reminded of when I first moved to NYC in 1983, ladies who gained permission to use the Frick Art Reference Library at the Frick Museum of Art must follow a set of rules laid out by founder Miss Helen Clay Frick: to be wearing a skirt--no pants allowed for women--no higher than mid-knee, and shoes with low heels, so as to not make clicking noises on the floor. Also all patrons must bring pencils to fill out the call forms as Miss Frick wrote that pens should never be allowed. Miss Frick's limits of number of call forms permitted per session were also strictly maintained; I imagined this was to provide for a higher number of internships for book fetchers, riding the elevator up and down with three books at a time.  (If you think the TSA is nasty, you aren't a woman who had the chance to know the sign-in guy at the Frick Library in the 1980's.) Is it a travesty that her will was broken on these matters by the early 90's?

    Yeah, requiring long skirts is so exactly like wanting to endow an educational institution instead of a public museum.


    So essentially you're saying the ends justify the means.


    I bet his estate is getting a lot of support for the people who are working to eliminate the rule against perpetuities.  Personally I am for the rule so I must be against his estate.  There should be limits on how long estates can be controlled by dead people.


    I think one of the things intriguing about the Barnes story for people, though they might not realize it, is that it's innately ironic that someone with progressive intent would leave a foundation encumbered with lots of precise rules (as opposed to instructions with an overarching general intent.) Because it presumes there are certain things which won't or shouldn't change in the future, and that's a conservative way of thinking, not a "progressive" one.


    While his locking the paintings away may seem anti-populist to some, the truth is he wished to foster intimate relationships with the work. Museums were cold, impersonal, and they stifled individual opinion. Barnes never turned the common man away or forced them to stand behind a velvet rope to see his Van Gogh. 

    There's no doubt that Barnes was a curmudgeon, particularly towards those who put on airs. Perhaps that's why he didn't seem to have much use for museums. He came from limited means and was devoted to teaching the underprivileged. He saw what happened to his friend's collection, and tried to prevent that from happening to his own foundation.