Art Held Hostage: The Battle over the Barnes Collection

by John Anderson

Book Overview

This is the story of how a fabled art foundation--the greatest collection of impressionist and postimpressionist art in America, including 69 C?zannes, 60 Matisses, and 44 Picassos, among many... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Hardcover
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0393048896
• Release Date: May 2003
• Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
• Length: 288 Pages
• Weight: 1.25 lbs.
• Dimensions: 9.6" x 1.1" x 6.5"

Customer Reviews

Race, politics and art do not make a good mix

Behind most great art collections are fools, poseurs and heroes. The emergence of Van Gogh, as the genius he was, depended on his courageous sister-in-law who took his paintings back home to Holland, protected them and marketed his genius. Gifts to a the National Gallery of Art and the Yale Center for British Art arose through the generosity of Andrew and Paul Mellon as detailed in David Cannadine's biography "Mellon." Calvin Tomkins, and others, have written well about the Metropolitan Museum of Art and its benefactors. Then, there are the fools and poseurs in John Anderson's excoriating expose "Art Held Hostage" which details the breach of trust to the Barnes Collection by the leaders of Lincoln University outside of Philadelphia. Add in the stench of Pennsylvania politics, the toxic brew of race and out comes a tragicomedy, a farce, until the adults mercifully remove the fabled collection from the kids' sandbox on Latches Lane in Lower Merion Township to Philadelphia where maturity reigns. Anderson does an admirable and thorough job in this short critique by holding the story line together amidst a welter of names, characters, quotes and counter-quotes and bizarre events occurring over a decade of tomfoolery committed by the stewards of Lincoln University. Paging through the exquisite catalogue accompanying the 1993 multi city international tour of the French Impressionists, it is so obvious that Lincoln University, bequeathed one of the great art treasures by the eccentric Albert Barnes, utterly failed in its responsibility to art, to its place as an educational institution of higher learning and to posterity. Anderson's book should be the starting point for the soon to be released movie called "The Art of the Steal," whose title in and of itself hints on which side of the debate it comes down upon.

Art as Pawn

...One of the most telling, not to mention amusing, lines in Art Held Hostage is uttered by Richard Glanton, the Barnes Foundation's former president and the litigious centerpiece of John Anderson's story. In an indignant letter to a Philadelphia Inquirer reporter, Glanton wrote: "If you intend to do what you have done in the past, endeavoring to besmirch my reputation and cast doubts and innuendoes about my leadership, you shall be held to the same standard you are held to when you write about other cultural institutions in Philadelphia." Glanton, neither an artist nor art professional, may have fancied himself a "cultural institution" - he once even said "I was the Barnes Foundation" - but he was hardly that. As even the snippet above reveals, Glanton, a lawyer, comes across as a bully, an egomaniac, a conniver, and a shameless self-promoter - someone charming to his friends and dangerous to his enemies. It is not even clear he was especially interested in art. But in John Anderson's detailed and engrossing account, Glanton, who also described himself as "the best politician you'll ever meet," was interested in power, and the Barnes as a means to that end. As Glanton himself stated when asked what the politicking at the Barnes was really about: "About who controls four-and-a-half billion dollars worth of art."That, indeed, is the story of the Barnes even today, in the wake of Richard Glanton's departure: who will control the art, and where will it reside. While all this makes for terrific reading, it is also sad that some of the world's greatest art should become a pawn in what is, at bottom, a petty power struggle.

A Fascinating Read about An Amazing Collection

Anyone familiar with the Barnes Museum knows the inherent irony of the collection - some of the greatest works of art housed in what amounts to a converted residence, with no logic to the pattern of display other than a sheer "wow" factor over seeing Cezannes, Matisses and other masters shown matter-of-factly. This priceless assemblege, and the battles that have been waged over its ownership and rights of management make for one terrificly enjoyable read.Outside of the art world, few people even knew of the Barnes's collection until the latter part of last century, when battles, both in court and in the news blew its cover. Struggling financially, and with management consisting of (overwhelmingly) less than capable minds, the foundation which owns and manages the collection approached bankruptcy and battles began over a touring show of the pieces. The very ugly underbelly of this battle made headline news for months, and spilled over into relations with neighbors of the museum, Philadelphia area politicians, art students and lovers, and the wishes of a very private man who appreciated art, but underappreciated the legacy he bequeathed a small minoirty college in Chester County, Pennsylvania.John Anderson does a great job profiling the players in the battle (his take on Richard Glanton, a lawyer with political aspirations who was a key player in the battle) is dead on. Often times, the characters in this true story seem larger than the paintings and legacy they are battling over - Anderson gives the various egos at work here more than enough room, which makes the book both entertaining, and troubling (particularly when the reader considers that these people are battling over one of a kind masterpieces).Its hard to imagine an art collection, a minority college, a strong willed educator and a power hungry lawyer, in a buccolic rural setting could make for such a great stroy - its a tribute to Anderson's writing skills that he captures the intensity of the parties, and their absolute believe in their position in the many legal battles that accompained the Barnes collection in such a breathtaking passion.The collection is back in court again these days, and the emerging details (undisclosed audits, suburban vs. city politicians...) make clear that sequel material is being developed to this day - I hope Anderson is sitting in the courtroom and editing his notes nightly.