Matisse painting at heart of power struggle!
The "Art of the Steal" is an absorbing tale about the intrigues surrounding a billion-dollar art collection, the astute art-lover who painstakingly pieced the celebrated canvasses together over the course of his idyllic life, and a gang of big-city culture thugs out to wrest the spoils of his labor from their resting place in a gem of a museum with the express intent of capitalizing on the masterpieces.
Of course, I am referring to the Barnes collection of post-impressionist paintings, which is second to none anywhere on the planet.
In spite of the fact the documentary (prouduced by 9.14 pictures) is fairly pedestrian in approach (with occasional creative flourishes here and there to break the monotony) it is the subject matter that is downright fascinating.
I should preface this post by noting that I started my professional career as a "painter".
During my teens and twenties (during a particularly creative period) I exhibited a series or two of abstract-expressionist paintings and fine line drawings in a myriad of art institutions; hence, I have first-hand knowledge of the gallery and museum scene.
In a nutshell, the film is basically a morality tale about greed and power.
In the opening scenes, the producers of this slick documentary, introduce filmgoers to Albert C. Barnes, a brilliant academic with a keen eye for art.
Shortly after Dr. Barnes discovered a treatment for veneral disease a few decades ago (by virtue of a drug named Argypol) he proceeded to embark on his quest to start-up a significant art collection from the spoils of his profit-making medical venture.
As luck would have it, Barnes was fortunate to cross paths with a handful of up-and-coming impressionist painters on overseas jaunts to Europe - Picasso and Matisse - for instance.
At a time when the art world - major museums, in particular - were focusing elsewhere on acquisitions for their permanent installations, Barnes snapped up canvasses that appealed to his artistic sensibilities at a time when the market was wide open.
In fact, Barnes - a Johnny-on-the-spot of sorts - was able to snatch up key pieces (best examples of painter's styles) for literally a song.
Once the diverse pieces began to stack up, the visionary collector proceeded to build a museum to house the one-of-a-kind masterpieces.
The Barnes Foundation was subsequently founded in 1922.
Over time, the walls were adorned with priceless works, he literally hung himself.
As a result, scholars collectors and academics hailed the museum setting as a remarkable personal cultural experience.
From the start, Barnes vowed to cause an uproar in the social circles he abhorred.
Of course, that didn't curry much favor with the Philadelphia elite who were the target of his acid barbs.
For example, he accused Philadelphia insiders of running a house of artistic and intellectual prostitution.
So, early on, Barnes created arch foes who plotted against him, thereafter.
A handful of his most staunch critics responded, for instance, by denouncing his paintings as "nasty" "debased" works of art that were downright "primitive".
For this reason, the discerning collector - with amazing taste - taunted his rivals to just try to get their hands on his priceless collection (which an Investure Trust would protect from beyond the grave in the event of his untimely demise. Or, so he thought).
It must have stung his harshest opponents when Matisse opined:
"The Barnes Museum is the only sane place in America to view art."
The collection boasts Cezanne's renowned "Card Players", a handful of exquisite Serault models, Matisse's remarkable LA DANCE (possibly worth a billion plus dollars in value if not simply priceless), and numerous Picassos, Van Goghs, etc.
The fussy connoisseur expected to raise the bar in respect to - not only the value of art - but its purpose in daily life.
Unfortunately, over time, Barnes incurred the wrath of a handful of the local power elite.
For starters, he began to bump heads with Walter Annenberg and his family, which owned the all-powerful mainstay daily in Philadelphia.
When Moses Annenberg (allegedly a gangster) was brought up on charges of tax evasion, Barnes ridiculed son Walter about his father's shortcomings.
Walter Annenberg never forgave the democrats for pursing his father so relentlessly, either.
Barnes didn't help matters when he posted notices around the museum which labelled his enemies basic whores and exploiters of art out for vulgar personal, professional, and monetary gains.
He slurred the locals when he referred to Philadelphia as an intellectual slum (which didn't help matters much after that).
Early on, two or three days during the course of the week were slated for art classes, while the remaining few were allotted for public visits by art-lovers, collectors, and scholars (by appointment.only)
After Barnes died suddenly in a fatal auto crash and the museum directorship was handed over to one of his dedicated disciples - Violette De Mazia (a good friend & confidante) - Annenberg and the Philadelphia Inquirer began to criticize the museum (going so far as to allege that the Barnes facility was not meeting its mandate pursuant to its tax exempt status).
Angered at what they viewed as a snobby attitude about art and the institution that housed it, critics conspired to break down the halls, and go for control of the celebrated collection.
Shortly after a newspaper article reported that the Barnes Museum was violating its tax status, the museum relented and began to schedule regular viewings for tourists, art lovers, and the like (who pined to get inside the doors and gaze upon the priceless works of art).
At this juncture, what was once a peaceful setting in the suburbs, erupted into a a storm of controversy when busloads of art-lovers and lookie-loo's roared into the neighborhood and upset the once-tranquil historic streets.
Enemies rubbed their hands with glee; after all, they were plotting to shut-down the museum.
Ah, just the ammunition they needed!
In addition to the neighborhood problems surfacing daily, opponents argued that unless authorities stepped in and took charge, the rare collection would be at risk of damage since the old museum was allegedly in a bad state of disrepair.
Their vision?
A permanent installation at the Philadelphia Art Gallery downtown.
Although some thought the "Barnes Investure" was iron clad, there was a loophole which the enemies of Barnes blasted wide open.
Indeed, the Museum flourished and gained respect in its capacity as a school and major art collection of undisputed value around the globe under her tutelage.
But, upon her death, the control of the Museum was unfortunately transferred to Lincoln University according to the last wishes of Barnes.
At this juncture, the roof literally tumbled down, when an ambitious lawyer was installed as head of the non-profit foundation.
At his bidding, Annenberg was invited into the fold, and the two began plotting.
Although the will specifically stated that the collection must never be lent out - or be exploited solely to reap financial benefit - the clever lawyer found a technicality to further his cause.
On the grounds that the Museum needed funding for renovations and operating costs, he convinced a court to permit the Barnes Collection to go on tour (which ended up being a landmark Art event of the century which rustled up staggerings profits right out of the starters gate).
Now, the big surge was on to shut down the Barnes Museum and install the collection permanently at the Philaelphia Art Gallery.
Now, things got diabolical, to say the least.
The potboiler shifts into high gear as the documentary focuses on the court proceedings, power-plays made by city officials and the Directors at PEW (one of three foundations now in charge of the Barnes Collection), and the long drawn-out public outcry from Barnes supporters and respected Art establishments around the country.
The documentary catches all the maneuverings - and treacherous transparent plot twists, too - in intense on-the-edge-of-your-seat detail.
Curiously - with exception to the Mayor - the "bad guys" singled out as the perpetrators of the" largest theft of art in this century" - would not utter a word in their own defense on camera (or even on record for that matter).
Not surprising; after all, the allegations were shocking.
All the documented evidence was pretty incriminating, too
In court, PEW's legal eagles alleged that the sole reason for wanting to transfer the art pieces was due to the fact there were insufficient funds to continue to safely and professionally display the art at the Barnes Museum.
Also, they boldly asserted that the museum could not operate properly because of limitations imposed by the city in respect to viewing hours.
There was also a question raised about insufficient parking.
The Barnes supporters countered that arrangements had been made to extend the hours of daily operation, build a much-needed parking structure, and secure sufficient funds to operate more comfortably.
But, the smoking gun was staggering!
One of the witnesses testified that he uncovered a fund written into the state budget that would provide $100 million dollars for the Barnes to be funded and housed at the Philadelphia Art Museum.
Curiously, the Judge was not informed of this little detail when PEW (and others) originally filed their motion with the court to shut down the Barnes Museum for altruistic reasons.
If there was $100 million in the kitty, obviously there were enough funds available for the Barnes to carry on.
More intriguing perhaps was the disclosure that an investigation was unable to determine - who applied for the $100 million, who approved it, and how it ended up being written into the state budget - with no one's apparent knowledge.
Yes, I suppose God does work in mysterious ways, eh?
But, the plot thickened.
The Barnes ) supporters accused PEW (currently in charge of the Barnes Collection by court order) of making a grab for the Barnes Collection in a deceitful effort to change their private foundation status to a non-profit.
Although PEW denied the charge vehemently, IRS documents confirmed that the Barnes Collection was - in fact - cited as grounds for a change of tax status in their legal paperwork filed with IRS officials.
Although the Barnes supporters were hopeful that the Judge would swing his ruling their way - especially after PEW'S dastardly deeds were reported to the court (with supporting documentary evidence) - the end results were disheartening.
In sum, the Judge ruled that "the friends" of Barnes had no legal standing; consequently, his honor denied their motion (request) to overturn the earlier decision which allowed the collection to be moved lock, stock, and barrel to a new gallery space at the Philadelphia Art Museum.
"They're going to turn it into the McBarnes Collection," some lamented, after the ruling was handed down.
Yup, they intend to serve up the art experience, like fast-food.
To many, the whole cultural experience - until now a unique one at the Barnes Museum - will be lost.
Worse than that, the art thieves have not only violated Barnes last wishes, but spirited away the collection to bolster their own selfish greedy ends.
In the final analysis, it appears that the high and mighty operate above the law without fear of recrimination.
In sum, power corrupts!
Portrait of Barnes mulling over his priceless collection!
Footnote
Please note that on the heels of this post being published @ the Tattler - a PEW representative contacted me by e-mail - and noted that the Charitable Trust has posted a rebuttal to the allegations at their web site.
To be fair, I penned an update on the issues, at the Tattler site.
Link:
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