Art Review: Barnes Foundation Collection

Last week, I wrote about the Barnes Foundation, focusing on its permanent collection, so good and so idiosyncratic that it slackens even the most fixed of jaws. After ten years in center-city Philadelphia, the Barnes is a national treasure, a stunner, and a unique, essential experience for art lovers. Getting it to Philadelphia from its leafy perch in Lower Merion took drama, conniving, $150 million, and the decimation of donor intent. Was it worth it?

I tend to be a purist on donor intent. A rich man or woman is free to make a will disposing of his or her wealth, and unless insanity rears its ugly head and tosses its curls, those wishes are to be honored. As I age, though, I’m less patient with crazy hotheads. The uncertifiable among them can wreak havoc. Mostly, cultural havoc’s good, but here’s a case of bad havoc.

About the Author

Brian T. Allen

Brian T. Allen is National Review’s art critic.

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Last week, I wrote about the Barnes Foundation, focusing on its permanent collection, so good and so idiosyncratic that it slackens even the most fixed of jaws. After ten years in center-city Philadelphia, the Barnes is a national treasure, a stunner, and a unique, essential experience for art lovers. Getting it to Philadelphia from its leafy perch in Lower Merion took drama, conniving, $150 million, and the decimation of donor intent. Was it worth it?

I tend to be a purist on donor intent. A rich man or woman is free to make a will disposing of his or her wealth, and unless insanity rears its ugly head and tosses its curls, those wishes are to be honored. As I age, though, I’m less patient with crazy hotheads. The uncertifiable among them can wreak havoc. Mostly, cultural havoc’s good, but here’s a case of bad havoc.