Philadelphia lawyers are good, but the politicians are better
How essential was the Barnes Collection? What I read in “The Art of the Steal” press notes was that it had 181 Renoirs, 69 Cezannes, 59 Matisses, 46 Picassos, 16 Modiglianis and seven van Goghs. These were collected by Barnes on various trips to Paris when such artists were considered beneath notice by establishment museums like the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Some are today literally priceless; one estimate values the collection at $25 billion.
That’s a lot of art for Merion. He knew it, too. Barnes personally cared for every inch of his collection: He hung paintings to reflect and comment on one another; placed period furniture and wall ornaments nearby; packed walls with a riot of pictures close but not too close together. He loved it, and he hated Philly’s Main Line establishment particularly the Museum of Art, which had scorned his collection in its early days.
Barnes hired some Philadelphia lawyers and wrote an ironclad will: The foundation would be endowed with funds sufficient to maintain everything exactly where and how it was including his very specific stipulation that the collection never go anywhere near the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Which is exactly where it is today.
He loathed that museum. He loathed its benefactors, the Annenberg family, founded by a gangster, enriched by proceeds from TV Guide, chummy with the Nixon administration.
The Annenberg empire published the Philadelphia Inquirer, which consistently and as a matter of policy covered this story with slanted articles and editorials. Don Argott’s “The Art of the Steal” is a documentary that reports this hijacking with outrage as Theft of the Century carried out in broad daylight by elected officials and Barnes trustees who justified it as putting the needs of many above those of one dead millionaire.
The film explains in great detail what happened after Barnes died in 1951. It involves Lincoln University, the small African American college to which he left control of his foundation, no doubt to stick it to the Main Line. It involves how Lincoln President Richard H. Glanton sidestepped Barnes’ wishes by taking many of the treasures on tour and being honored himself for such a benefaction.
But Glanton is not the last villain. As he perhaps overspent and depleted Barnes’ endowment, the vultures from Philadelphia were circling: Ready to pounce and fly off with their masterpieces back to their nest in the Art Museum yes, atop those same steps Rocky Balboa ran up in “Rocky.” You can see them now at the top, hands held high in triumph.
Well, was this such a bad thing? The Renoirs and Picassos can now be seen by anyone who visits that museum instead of by a limited number of art students. The film could do a better job of allowing for defense on access to the public grounds. But what it does is tell a cautionary tale.
Whatever Barnes put in his will was very clear. The best legal minds wrote it up. It is obvious that the way his collection was treated ran counter to what he wanted. It’s obvious that city fathers acted against those wishes and were backed by an appeals court. What finally became apparent: it doesn’t mean a damn thing if you have $25 billion and the politicians and establishment want it and what your will says.
Watch Philadelphia lawyers are good but the politicians are better For Free On Gomovies.