The Art of the Steal (2009) User Reviews

A history and a polemic

[Chris Knipp · 7/10 · 21 September 2009]

"'The Art of the Steal' is a documentary that chronicles the long and dramatic struggle for control of the Barnes Foundation, a private collection of Post-Impressionist and early Modern art valued at more than $25 billion."--Film publicity.

Actually, it's $25-$35 billion. The value is really incalculable. Albert C. Barnes (1872-1951) was a Philadelphian of working-class origins who used his fortune from an antiseptic compound called Argyrol to collect: 181 Renoirs, 69 Cezannes, 59 Matisses (including his commissioned, unique, Art of the Dance murals), 46 Picassos, 21 Soutines, 18 Rousseaus, 16 Modiglianis, 11 Degas, 7 Van Goghs, 6 Seurats, 4 Manets and 4 Monets. And these are quality, not just quantity: they include some of the named artists' best works. For Renoir, Cezanne, and Matisse, this collection is unique, and there may be no other private collection of such work of this magnitude.

Barnes was a great collector. He was also famously cranky and opinionated. He deeply and lastingly resented the fat cats of the city of Philadelphia who mocked the work in his collection when it was first shown. He chose to keep the collection away from those Philadelphian fat cats. A friend of the philosopher and educational theorist John Dewey, he built a museum in Merion, Pennsylvania (five miles from Philadelphia) on his own land, a 12-acre Arboretum, and restricted visits, running the Foundation as a teaching institution, which was his main focus in life from the Twenties till his death in a car accident in 1951. The collection was displayed as in a house, arranged with furniture and decorations, in aesthetically pleasing (if rather overly-symmetrical) groupings, rather than in the contemporary museum's open space, white wall style.

Barnes' will specified that the collection must never be loaned out or sold. His will put Lincoln University, a small black college, in charge of the collection after his death.

For a long time the Foundation was run by a close follower of the Barnes spirit, Violette de Mazia. But after she died in 1988, gradually, and recently quite rapidly, the will has been abrogated, the trust broken. In the Nineties, an ambitious man named Richard H. Glanton, who was then in charge loaned the collection to various major venues, including the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, and ending, ironically, at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, ostensibly to raise money. More recently a powerful nexus of politicians (the governor and the mayor of Philadelphia), the Annenbergs, the Philidelphia Museum, and rich charitable organizations, mainly the Pew Foundation, have worked not only to get control away from Lincoln University but to move the whole collection to a new building in the city of Philadelphia, where Barnes emphatically did not want his collection to be.

The documentary focuses on and sides with the opposition to this development. There was a court challenge to Judge Ott's decision allowing the move, but he opted not to consider it and the opposition has not appealed this decision.

That's the focus of the film. I confess to somewhat mixed feelings about these complex issues. I grew up in Baltimore, where the Cone sisters gave their extraordinary (if smaller) collection of similar work to the Baltimore Museum of Art in the Fifties, so anyone could look at it. But in those years, it was hard to get to see the Barnes collection, and even after it was opened up (against Barnes' will) it remained out of the way and so I've never seen it. In some sense it seems better that it may now be viewed by a lot of people in Philadelphia. Barnes shouldn't made a collection of this magnitude so difficult of access. On the other hand, the fat cats have raped Barnes' will and ignored his intentions. It has now been stolen away from its original administrators and all Barnes' wishes have been willfully violated. Two wrongs don't make a right. There was a problem, but this is not the proper resolution.

Emotions run high among the talking heads; most of the principals responsible for the latest, final takeover declined to be interviewed. Biased though this film is, it has law and the rights of collectors on its side. And it reveals some political funny business that would make Michael Moore salivate. It's an ugly picture of art being turned into a battle for power and money and exploited for political luster and tourist potential. Instructive and disturbing.

An official selection of the New York Film Festival at Lincoln Center, shown earlier in the TIFF, the film now (Sept. 21, 2009) has been picked up by a distributor, IFC.

__________________

One Man's Vision of Art is Sold Out--Very Good But Would Have Been More Effective If It Had a Narrator

[classicalsteve · 8/10 · 8 August 2010]

Matisse said the Barnes House was the only sane place in America to view art.

Once upon a time, a century and a half ago, a few unknown artists in France had a new vision of painting and visual art. They painted in a style that was an affront to the art establishment which largely dismissed them and their work. They were mostly excluded from the Académie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture in Paris because their works did not invoke a kind of idealism that "the powers that be" felt should be in art. They won no prizes for their efforts, and they had to create their own galleries and exhibition venues. But there was one American art collector, a little-known medical scientist who helped develop cures for gonorrhea and venereal disease, who had an eye for modern art. He used the money he made from his cures to acquire paintings by these mavericks that no one else wanted. At the time, they were quite attainable. So, the doctor-scientist begin amassing a collection of these artworks sensing a value and aesthetic in them that most of art connoisseurship had dismissed. But later that would change.

Today, these unknowns and mavericks are household names: Czanne, Matisse, Picasso, Renoir, Monet, Manet, and Van Gogh, and their work is what we now call "impressionism" and "post-impressionism". The man who acquired so many of these works was the late Albert Barnes (1872-1951). He amassed a collection in the early 20th century that makes even the Louvre shake their head in envy. The collection boasts more Renoirs than the entire nation of France! In the current art market, the collection is worth far more than he ever could have paid for them at the time he acquired most of them, reportedly between 25 and 35 billion dollars US (2010). In all likelihood, not even the Louvre or the Metropolitan Museum of Art could afford to buy the entire collection at market value. What we're talking about here is a priceless collection. But instead of donating the collection to a museum, Barnes decided to create a kind of educational institution with the collection as its focus. He arranged the paintings in an unconventional manner that matched like-quality and like-inspiration rather than by stylistic period, which is the norm in most museums. This way students could see a painting from the Impressionists period next to a Rembrandt, and understand the similarities.

Barnes died in 1951 and left what he thought was an iron-clad Will to keep the paintings in the Barnes' house and maintain the same arrangement for his school. It was essentially kept that way until the death of the first Trustee head who died in 1988. Now the Barnes Collection appears to be destined for the City of Philadelphia housed in a new museum, something it sounds like he never would have wanted. "The Art of the Steal" chronicles the myriad lawsuits and wheeling-dealings that destroyed the integrity of one man's unique vision of his art and collection. According to the documentary, the paintings will be moved into a museum for the tourist crowd rather than maintaining his wishes for an art school.

Most of the "talking heads" of the documentary are those opposed to the relocation of the collection, which makes the documentary rather lopsided in that direction. However, it is interesting that many people involved in the actual deal, the new Board Members of the Trustees of the Barnes Foundation, refused to be interviewed. In other interviews and statements outside the documentary, they claim to honor Barnes' desires as outlined in his Will. But they refused to be interviewed for the documentary which begs the question, if they have nothing to hide, why not let the chips fall where they may, including the current head of the Trustees, Dr. Bernard C. Watson? And if they have the facts on their side, why did they exclude the filmmakers from attending a press conference? Whether mostly accurate or inaccurate, there is one person you can't so easily dismiss: former NAACP chairman Julian Bond. Bond is one of the most level-headed people on the planet and not prone to extremism. When he sees this as a plundering of a great collection, I am bound to listen. It sounds like the vision of the collection for art students is being thrown away in favor of tourism.

The only advocate for the collection's relocation who appears on camera is the Governor of Pennsylvania, who speaks at length about the advantages for Philadelphia, saying it was a "no-brainer". Of course. Honoring the Will of a dead art collector who won't be contributing to any political campaigns pales in comparison to the big-wig moneyed forces that wanted the collection moved. But never once in the interview does the Governor say he's doing it in the best interest of the wishes of Barnes. He's doing what's in the best interests of his political future is the message.

Former President of the Trustees, Richard Glanton, appears to be the where the trouble started. He makes no bones about having made all kinds of deals regarding the collection which seems served more Glanton than the wishes of Barnes. He authorized a tour of the works worldwide. Certainly, people should be able to see the collection, but would have Albert Barnes approved of this?

The only shortcoming of the documentary I felt was again the lack of a narrator. There were many facts I wanted to know more about that were not covered by the interviewees, particularly stories about from whom and from where he acquired many of these paintings. Still a fascinating account of a very controversial subject. Should the paintings be accessible to a greater public? Yes. But should the integrity of the collection be compromised for this goal? I leave that up to the viewer.

An eye-opening tracing of the fate of one of the most prestigious collections of art in the world

[ryancarroll88 · 7/10 · 6 December 2010]

"The Art of the Steal" follows the fate of The Barnes Collection, the most prestigious and valuable post-impressionist art collection in the world, tracing the battle between collector and museums over the course of 75 years. The origin of the collection is quite a story: Dr. Barnes, who had gained wealth in breakthrough scientific research, acquired some of the best modern paintings of the time by having something that museums and art critics of the time didn't have - taste and pure intuition. Over time, however, the artwork garnered the acclaim it deserved, but Barnes was determined to keep his collection private and have it appreciated by those who were willing to give the paintings the proper study they deserved. This belief became a trademark of his estate, but after Barnes' death and the passage of time, ownership of the collection became more and more blurry and penetrable to former enemies of Barnes, namely The Philadelphia Enquirer and The Philadelphia Art Museum, who wished to make the gallery public. After years of legal struggle (a series of back and forths the documentary covers to an almost painful degree), the city finally obtains it for a measly $107 million, a shadow to the estimated $25 billion the collection is worth.

The documentary is very clear in pointing out that the fate of the collection is directly contrary to what Barnes had wished for it. In fact, everyone who has hands currently on the collection are the very people who opposed and battled the existence of the collection to begin with. What the documentary doesn't present very well is the passage of time - Barnes has been dead for nearly 60 years, and keeping the wishes of a dead man alive when that much money is at stake and ownership is juggled around naturally becomes a more and more difficult thing to do. What it effectively portrays is the tourist attraction that art has become, a cash cow to governments who have the opportunity to capitalize on it. Whether this is a travesty or not is up to debate, but what is certain is that the city of Philadelphia effectively stole the property of Barnes and mocked the idea of personal wealth. The overall outcome is that now the collection can be viewed by anyone and everyone publicly - a point that the documentary seems determined not to emphasize (one reason is probably because 90% of the interviewees were associated with or supported the original foundation.) As nothing more than a spectator, I'm personally excited that this legendary artwork will be on display for everyone to see for the first time, but being aware of the underbelly of politics behind the gallery makes the silver lining all the more bittersweet.

Jeremiad of a Soon Lost Treasure

[J_Trex · 10/10 · 25 March 2010]

I've lived in the Philly area my entire life & followed the Barnes Foundation saga from the very beginning until its tawdry denouement and I don't understand some of the bizarre postings above.

No doubt the filmmakers had an agenda, which was that the Barnes should stay in Merion but the power brokers in Harrisburg and Philly colluded to drive it into the ground to force the move to the BF Parkway, which was entirely at odds with Dr. Barnes Last Will & Testament.

This was pretty convincingly driven home by the movie.

The collection isn't invitation only, you simply request a timed ticket on their website and you're in. The entrance fee is a reasonable $15 and the museum housing the collection is truly world class, on par with the Villa Borghese in Rome or the Frick in Manhatten, only better. It is truly one of a kind, one of the treasures of the art world.

It's true that the Barnes was mismanaged by Richard Glanton, the President of the Trustees, during the 1990's. His lawsuit against the Merion Neighbors Association was as disastrous as it was idiotic. But that was no excuse to move the whole operation to the Parkway. It seems it would have been quite easy to raise the money to keep it at Merion.

Who cares if the number of eyeballs weren't maximized? It was never intended to be run that way. And after Episcopal Academy moved away from it's previous City Line Ave location, an entrance from Route 1 (City Line Ave) could have easily been paved (Episcocal even offered to donate the land to make it happen, a fact oddly not mentioned in the film). This would have entirely eliminated the neighbors complaints. However, those talks went nowhere (did the power brokers intervene to squash that also?) Saint Joseph's University ended up buying the entire Episcopel property. I have no doubt SJU would have been more than willing to work something out with a treasure like the Barnes. Having a world renowned art institution as a neighbor would be woth that much, at least.

The question arises, "what would Barnes think of the move?". He despised the stuffy, Republican WASPs that ran Philadelphia and who looked down their noses at the upstart Barnes and his post impressionist art. He left control in his will to the downtrodden African Americans who ran Lincoln University, as a way to "stick it" to the powers that be. But now that those outsiders are actually the insiders, and helped engineer the move to the Parkway, would Barnes object? Who really knows.

In any event, I thought the documentary was great & recommend it highly.

ART of the STEAL is a superb and astute documentary

[aliabarca · 10/10 · 28 March 2010]

This is the most exciting and thorough documentary/reporting I have seen in years. This docu film plays out like the best of suspense novels. Anyone posting on this site (or anywhere else) about how this film is one-sided and doesn't tell the true story, is simply on the other side and trying to cover up. Dr. Barnes owned this collection and it was his wish that it never be moved. The film clearly demonstrates how a bunch of irresponsible, greedy, power brokers and some pretty ignorant and cheesy politicos twisted things around to get their way and move the art to central Philadelphia. If you've been around the block a few times, you will recognize in a New York minute who is lying and who is telling the truth. The amount of self-serving lies and twisted truths will enrage you as you watch. And like a lot of life these days, it all boils down to POLITICS and MONEY. The politicians who steered the downfall are shown to be ridiculous and completely transparent. And stupid, for they can't even tell a good lie. The friends, art critics and dealers who speak on behalf of the keeping the Barnes in Merion are engaging, articulate and often brilliant. Attorney Nick Tinari, a prior student of Dr. Barnes, who doesn't suffer fools gladly is a joy to watch; dynamic, outspoken and sharp as can be. As well, art dealer Richard Feigen's input and particularly his commentary as he strolls through a Post-Modern auction preview at Sothebys is PRICELESS and right on target. Dr. Barnes, a brilliant man who rightfully chose to do it his way, must be rolling over in his grave. The BARNES belongs in Merion!!!! and they've stolen it away.

Entertaining and well made if one sided

[runamokprods · 7/10 · 9 November 2014]

Interesting and entertaining look at how a bunch of the powerful in Philadelphia basically conspired to take one of the great modern art collections in the world away from it's home in the suburbs, , and transplant them into Philadelphia proper, against the express wishes left in Albert C. Barnes will (made in 1922).

While there's no question the tactics used by those in power are sleazy, the film also ignores what I consider a key issue: Is it really such a bad thing that one of the most amazing collections of modern art be much more accessible to the public, even if it violates the will of a man with no heirs who has been dead over 50 years? At what point do old grudges - going both ways - count less than art belonging to the world? I'm not saying there are neat answers to such questions, but the film acts like there's no moral murkiness at all.

Similarly the film uses questionable tactics to argue its case. For example it's constantly stating how those on the 'other side' refuse to be interviewed. Yet, it is clear that the ideology of the film-makers is known to all involved -- the film is financed by one of the leaders of the group fighting against the collections movement, and guards at a gathering of those planning the art move know not to allow in this specific film crew, even mentioning their production company name. If you knew you a film was being made whose basic premise is that you're a swindler a cheat and a thief with no respect for art, would you agree to be interviewed?

Additionally, some of those who seem so calm and well reasoned while being interviewed and arguing the art should be left where it is, seem a little less impressive when you see them outside that same gathering screaming 'philistines!' at those going inside.

None-the less, I still enjoyed the film, and there's no question it does a good job exposing the fact that many of our biggest public trusts and charitable institutions have a lot going on besides 'acting in the public interest', and are willing to play dirty pool to get what they want. I just find it hard to see this as a case of moral outrage to rank with the Iraq war, or starving children, or the U.S. educational crisis. It's basically rich people hating on rich people. Fun, but not as nutritious as all that.

Justice in Philadelphia?

[clg238 · 9/10 · 28 March 2010]

This is a movie about the last will and testament of Alfred Barnes who sought to control the fate of one of the greatest art collections in the world, which he, personally, had amassed and governed. This is a movie that details the ruthless overpowering of Barnes's clearly spelled out intent by a conspiracy of corporate, non-profit and elected officials. It is a breathtaking documentary, and incredibly depressing for anyone who thinks that, in the end, justice will prevail. Those who want to move the Barnes collection from Merion, PA, where Barnes decreed it should remain will stop at nothing to get their way: they will, according to this film, tell lies, commit deliberate lies of omission, buy off their opponents, flagrantly ignore what is written in a legal document. Many reviewers have commented to the effect that this documentary lacks nuance because it doesn't make enough of a case for the other side. Sorry, but if a person's will counts for nothing, there is no other side. May every person who conspired to steal the Barnes collection have his or her will totally overturned after his or her death!

Fascinating, but Unbalanced

[mr_deadly · 7/10 · 8 January 2012]

This well-made documentary is informative and fascinating, but I don't think it fairly presents the arguments for those who disagree with its thesis, which is that Barnes' will should be meticulously respected as it pertains to his amazing art collection.

Those who feel otherwise are portrays as gangsters, thieves, Philistines: power-hungry jerks with selfish motives. While there is an undoubtedly an element of truth to those accusations, it is not the entire story. I feel I must play a little devil's advocate for a more charitable spin on 'the other side.'

It appears to me that the collection's arrangement and display in the original Barnes building is hopelessly outdated: crammed together in the style of a century ago, and arranged according to the whim of one man who is long dead. The modern museum gives art much more space to breathe, and scholars and curators can and do illuminate art by arranging it, and juxtaposing it, in new and different ways.

Why should these works be arranged, forever, in only one pattern, and in only one building? Blockbuster exhibitions are not merely money-makers for museums, but are opportunities to see art in a different context, and for scholars and curators to advance the study of art by combining pieces in new and different ways.

Why, logically, should cultural treasures be considered the property of one man legacy for all of eternity? I can see the logic of requesting an owner's wishes for a long period of time--say, for 50 years. But for centuries? Owners of art deserve respect, but the notion that ownership can extend out into an infinite future is crazy. Just as copyrighted works eventually enter the public domain, so should artworks become available for the benefit and enjoyment of the larger public.

Barnes' name should be, and will be, associated with this art for a very long time. But his obsessions and whims and taste should not dictate the fate of his collection for all time. Allowing the work to travel, and to be arranged differently, and to even move into a new building, is reasonable (over centuries, a dozen different curators and scholars might bring their era's thinking and aesthetic to the collection).

I concede that this might be painful for Lower Merion, and to those who agree with Barnes' will. But Barnes has been dead for decades. Ownership and control of objects of major cultural importance should, eventually, pass from the control of an owner who has long been dead.

And Matisse's line, about how the Barnes was the only sane place in America to view art, should be taken with a grain of salt: if he saw the best art museums in America today, he may very well have changed his mind. A world-class museum today is far, far superior to any art museum of a century ago. Each generation produces new scholarship, and artworks of genuine cultural importance should be available to the finest scholars and curators of each generation. To do otherwise is to overvalue the taste and importance of a single individual who died decades ago, and to undervalue the art's importance to the wider world.

The Art of the Steal

[penny-parkin · 10/10 · 27 March 2010]

It's about time this story was told for the entire world to hear the facts.

I am unnerved by two problems with previous reviewers here:

1) The Barnes Foundation is NOT a "museum"! It is an educational art foundation! Please do not keep referring to it as a "museum"!

2) Every, I repeat, every film has a point of view, and every documentary has its own "slant" or perspective. Why do reviewers think that a documentary must show all points of view. Did Fahrenheit 9-11? What about Food, Inc. or Supersize Me? Or The Smartest Men in the Room? Or Millhouse? (Do you want me to go on?) Please give one example of a documentary that gives all points of view!

One very salient point in this film is that Dr. Barnes' (and he did have a medical degree, so it is not dishonest to give him that label) will was thrown out by the court. A legal precedent which will have very serious ramifications.....

Full of bias and truth

[zorbarus · 7/10 · 4 April 2010]

Art of the Steal is a documentary full of bias and unrepentantly one-sided, yet hugely entertaining and informative. I'm surprised by other reviewers' claim that the institution is so inaccessible. I'm not from Philadelphia, have visited twice, and didn't find it particularly difficult to get to or visit. I'm also deeply appreciative of the care and idiosyncrasy the Barnes Foundation has displayed in nurturing the art collection and living up to its educational mission. It is not a museum nor was it ever intended for that purpose. While the film is pure agitprop and borrows some of the more questionable tactics of the likes of Michael Moore, it shows convincingly how power brokers in Philadelphia, notably the Annenbergs and the Pew Charitable Trust, conspired to take over the Barnes under the guise of "protecting it." The fact that the collection is probably valued at more than $30 billion and the considerable power its "protector" will wield in the art world are not minor considerations. In the process, these faux benefactors violated the will of its owner, destroyed a unique gem in the art world, and ran roughshod over the will of the people in Merion. In the end, this is a film about power, wealth, manipulation, and dirty politics in Philadelphia. It is also a cautionary tale about how corruption runs close to those who claim to stand for freedom. The liberty bell is pretty silent on the issue.

Art Does As Art Is

[druid333-2 · 10/10 · 24 April 2010]

Dr. Albert C.Barnes was one of the richest men in America in the late 19th century/early 20th century,after William Randolf Hurst,and others. He became as rich as he was by inventing a treatment for VD (now known as sexually transmitted diseases). With the money he earned,he started collecting art (mainly classical,but some modern art as well). To house all of that art,he started the Barnes Foundation. Albert Barnes also had his dark side:he held a burning grudge toward the city of Philadelphia,so much that he housed his art in a large building,in the guise of an art school,only allowing the students to view the works (mainly as an artistic level,and absolutely not for any kind of monetary reasoning). This did not sit well with the powers that be (in this case,the powerful Annenburg empire,whom Barnes detested with a passion,as well as Philadelphia's museum). After Barnes'death in 1951, the collection fell into the hands of various owners,each with a hidden agenda of their own (including,but not limited to Philadelphia's Lincoln University). The various talking heads that populate this film tell their own take on the who's,what's,when's,where's & why's all of this came to an ugly head,over a period of 50 plus years,until the Barnes collection did eventually find a permanent home in downtown Philadelphia. Don Argot directs & photographs this film,which some have called a one-sided argument for the ownership & control of art (as a business). Not rated by the MPAA,this film contains occasional outbursts of strong language,but is okay for older teenagers that are interested in art.

Short sighted community loses art museum...

[penberthyp · 25 August 2011]

In the eleventh hour Merion township forgets it's gripes about bus traffic and realizes it might lose something valuable. After forbidding the Museum to build a 56 car parking lot in a very petty fashion the neighbors of the foundation are portrayed as victims of the move at the end of the movie. I'm sorry. Glanton may be a clod, but he was forestalling what turned out to be the inevitable move of the collection to Philadelphia.

Would you rather have the art tour the world temporarily or have it moved permanently to Philadelphia? When you don't bend you break.

This is a very sad loss, but I can't help feel that there is no righteous side in this saga. Poor Merion? You mismanaged your asset, ditto Lincoln University. It's sad that there was no brilliant person to manage the estate and oversee it's protection. Incompetence loses to a powerful people with tourist dollars in their eyes.

admittedly biased

[hcoursen · 7/10 · 21 October 2010]

I enjoyed this -- knowing nothing at all about the subject before I watched the film. I don't think there's any doubt that the big-money came in and purchased the result it wanted, in conjunction with the affable Ed Rendell, who could make about anything seem reasonable. But -- the inaccessibility of the collection does seem to be an issue that the film did not really address. What about transportation? Parking? The impact of a density of visitors on a residential neighborhood? The film did not resolve these issues. A highhanded 'theft' may actually be in the interests of the greater number of people. One flaw in the design of the film is that -- having presented early on the vigorous objections of the neighbors in Merion to the crowds and buses coming down the residential roads to the Barnes -- Argott did not go back to them for their reaction to the move to the city. What did they think of that? We never know.

A polemic that argues for its opposition

[charleski · 2/10 · 26 August 2010]

The scenario in brief: Albert C. Barnes is an idiosyncratic, but very wealthy man who has a good eye for art in the early 20th century and manages to snap up a large collection of post-impressionist paintings that becomes very important. Instead of opening this up to public view, he hides it away in a suburb on Pennsylvania, accessible only to a select elite. If we are to believe this documentary, his act of cultural kidnapping was founded on personal animosity towards the eminences running the public works in Pennsylvania in his day. Hardly an excellent reason to deprive the nation of the opportunity to view great works of art.

But Barnes is not content with depriving his contemporaneous generation of these works and decides to drag his collection with him to the grave. He draws up an elaborate will that sets up a foundation that will keep the paintings sequestered away, mouldering under the gaze of small groups of specially-selected 'students'.

The film covers the efforts made to wrest control of this vitally important collection away from a group of preppy blue-bloods who wanted to remain true to Barnes' exclusive vision. We are shown a series of sniffy elitist aristos whining as the barriers that Barnes set up are slowly broken down. We are told, in shocked tones, that one common gent decided to leave the exhibition after remarking that Reubens' paintings contained a lot of fat ladies (gasp! - the implication is clearly that mere commoners should not be allowed to view and pass judgement on these cultural fetishes).

Finally, the Foundation teeters on bankruptcy and elected officials step in to ensure that the collection is maintained for the public good. In a final act of cultural vandalism they move it away from the tiny and vastly inappropriate secluded mansion Barnes provided and house it in a modern gallery where anyone can visit and enjoy these treasures. At this point the chosen talking heads erupt in a fury - the idea of common people leaving the imprint of their common eyeballs on work that should be restricted to the privileged elite is clearly beyond bearing.

Make no mistake, the intent of this film is to argue the case for the Barnes elitists, and it spends a lot of time spewing rants about how evil it was to open up the collection. I knew very little of the Barnes Foundation before seeing it, but based solely on the information the film provided it is blatantly obvious that the terms of Barnes' legacy had to be overthrown.

This art did not belong to Barnes, he only got to hold it for a while. This art belongs to the world, and the world finally has the chance to enjoy it.

The greatest theft ever committed

[napierslogs · 9/10 · 19 January 2013]

"The Art of the Steal" is about not only the greatest art theft in the world, but probably the greatest crime ever committed. And at this point, let's define "greatest". In this sense, "great" means comparatively large in size or number, unusual or considerable in power or intensity, and of an extreme or notable degree. It does not mean wonderful, first-rate, or good. This theft wasn't even deemed a crime in the first place and was committed by mobsters, city of Philadelphia politicians, and educators.

The documentary follows the story chronologically. It starts with Dr. Albert C. Barnes' educating himself about art and building an immense art collection. He's a good guy. He wanted to appreciate art for art's sake, not for its perceived value. He started the Barnes Foundation, complete with approximately $30 Billion dollars worth of art work by some of the world's most eminent painters. And, yes, that's Billion with a "B". The legal articles of incorporation for the Barnes Foundation made it very clear that this was a private, educational institution. Art students were encouraged to sign-up for classes or a visit. The "fat cats" of Philadelphia were not.

The next part of the documentary was Barnes' death in 1951. It makes you gasp if you think about what could happen to the Foundation if he didn't adequately prepare for its life after his death. The story kept weaving its way through twist after twist and for somebody who is completely uneducated in art history, each point was more shocking than the one before.

The good news is that Barnes' did adequately prepare the Foundation in the event of his death. He had a legal Will and Testament firmly in place. It was first left to his trusted friend, Violette de Mazia, and she did the best she could. Even in the event of her death, which happened in 1988, Barnes still had the legal ownership of the Foundation intact. The bad news is that greedy, manipulative people in power do not have to follow legal documents. To them the legal system is this little joke which they can just look down on and laugh at as they proceed to do the opposite of what was supposed to happen – legally and morally speaking that is.

"The Art of the Steal" is a great documentary because they even managed to get people like "educator" Richard Glanton, the Governor of Pennsylvania, the Mayor of Philadelpha, and a corrupt judge to speak in front of the camera admitting to what they did, in direct opposition to the law, completely nonchalant to their immoral actions. And the world just has to sit back and watch them commit the greatest crime ever.

I guess I'm having a hard time sharing the outrage

[JoeB131 · 8/10 · 8 August 2010]

This is a very well made film.

All that said, I guess I am having a hard time seeing the outrage expressed by filmmakers. It isn't like the art is being sold off to rich people. It is being put in one venue and into another which is more accessible to the public.

Yes, one can truly appreciate the fact that Barnes had a legitimate gripe with the cultural elite of Philadelphia (which honestly sounds like an oxymoron in itself). But in the end, he won. He was the guy with the vision and the artwork he collected, much of it dismissed in its time, are now seen as masterworks.

To continue his vendetta against his adversaries (all of whom are about as dead as he is) seems a bit silly. The artworks are going to be preserved as an intact collection in a much better venue. I'm just having a hard time sharing the outrage here...

One-sided but fascinating

[jlg310 · 7/10 · 3 October 2010]

The Art of the Steal—another great doc in what's already being dubbed the best documentary year in a long time—does something seemingly impossible. It crafts a compelling and informative story about art galleries. It sounds as dry as the Sahara on paper, but the story is surprisingly engaging. I objected to director Don Argott's almost completely one-sided approach to the material, but as long as you keep that in mind throughout, this can be a truly rewarding experience.

The film centers around Dr. Albert C. Barnes, a wealthy, anti-establishment suburban Philadelphia native who, in the first half of the 20th century, amassed one of the most impressive and expensive private art collections in history. The Barnes Collection consists of 181 Renoirs, 69 Cezannes, 59 Matisses, 46 Picassos, 16 Modiglianis and seven van Goghs, among other pieces of work, and it resided in Merion, PA, just outside of Philadelphia. When he died, an epic struggle for power and control broke out which has yet to be completely settled. If anything, it has escalated since Barnes' death.

Barnes despised the rich, famous, and powerful of Philadelphia. His number one enemy was Walter Annenberg, who operated the Philadelphia Inquirer. And Barnes made his collection incredibly exclusive as a result. As one commenter stated, Barnes denied access to the New York Times art critic, but he'd let the town plumber come in any time of day. After Barnes suddenly died in a car crash, the vultures began to circle, but his will outlined very specific instruction on what should happen to his art. Control over the art passed down to a number of his "disciples," and it was made clear that the art wouldn't be moved.

After the last of the disciples died, control went to Lincoln University, a small black college. Their presidents slowly shifted away from Barnes' wishes over time. One president, Richard H. Glanton, took the art on tour and attempted to expand hours to make the art more accessible. Glanton was despised by those loyal to Barnes (many of whom are the primary interview subjects in the film), but he was small potatoes to what the politicians and non-profit organizations did next.

The story has the capability to frustrate you. Going against a man's will seems like a really despicable thing to do. But when you sit back and think about what's actually happening, some interesting questions are raised. What's really best: to keep this priceless art hidden at the request of a somewhat bitter man who died more than 60 years ago, or to open it up to the public and let everyone learn and appreciate the incredible work on display? This might be an instance in which what's best and what's right are in opposition, but the film raises the questions. Unfortunately, it doesn't take the time to explore them.

The film is incredibly one-sided, more so than any documentary, outside the Michael Moore catalog, that I've seen in a long time. The only person interviewed that isn't a Barnes disciple is Glanton, and it appears he's only on hand because he wants to prove he wasn't as bad as what came after him.

This year is already being talked up as one of the best in a long time for documentaries. Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work was one of my favorite films from the first part of the year. Inside Job and Countdown to Zero received very positive buzz out of Cannes. And Exit Through the Gift Shop and Restrepo, among others, have already opened to rave reviews. And that's not even discussing what's coming later this year. I've never been a huge fan of documentaries. Perhaps that's because I was a student and didn't care to sit through a lecture, no matter how interesting the subject might have been. This year, that has definitely changed.

Some of these reviewers must work for Ed Rendell and Bernie Watson!

[BigMamou · 10/10 · 10 April 2010]

The BS factor being bandied around by buff-29 and R.D. Monsoon in their reviews are mostly refuted simply by watching the movie. Just 2 of their points, Monsoon's assertion that the Foundation was mismanaged by the Foundation Board is completely misrepresented - it was purposely run into the ground by the packing of new board members who represented the push to move the collection to Philly. Secondly, Buff-29 makes a big deal about the filmmakers using "Dr." as Barnes' title......well guess what Mr. 29, Barnes got an MD degree in 1892, why should he be denied his title when every doctor on earth uses the title until the day they die! Saying this use makes the movie dishonest is simply an attempt to distract potential viewers from the real points the movie makes - truthful points I might add? Actually the major points the movie makes can't be denied - the collection which legally belonged to the foundation set up by Barnes was stolen by new board members using audacious, dishonest behavior and motives and by overwhelming the small town keepers-of-the-collection-flame with armies of lawyers, politicians, lies and money! In overturning the Foundation Charter AND Barnes' will these scuzzballs have set a legal precedent that will come back to bite the @sses of US foundations, private and public institution boards, museums, schools and virtually any bequest currently in use by those entities anywhere in this country. But hey, Philly got it's tourist attraction....no big deal huh? My guess is that sooner or later Bernie Watson, Ed Rendell, Rebecca Rimel, Mayor Street and all of their handmaidens will get personally burnt by the precedent they set. After all, what if the MoMA decides the Barnes collection belongs in Manhattan (after all it would make more money there, be seen by many more people and NOT be in Philly where Barnes specifically NEVER wanted it to be)? Think Philly could withstand the onslaught of power and money that institution could generate? I think not! Heck, while we're at it let's move the Frick to Orlando where it will get many more visitors sitting next to DisneyWorld.

Art meets reality

[hitchcockkelly · 6/10 · 26 January 2023]

It was an interesting film if for no other reason than it demonstrates the unsustainability of socialist ideals in a capitalist world. Albert Barnes's fragile ego and his Marxist sensibilities led him to create a trust which ensured that no one who could pay to see his art would ever see it. His loathing of the art establishment caused him to build a school around his collection. No one in a position to criticize it would be allowed in, only the proletariat and students who genuflected to his genius. The school was a noble idea until it came up against the Reality Principle: you can't get something (a perpetually funded art school) for nothing (not exploiting the value of the collection). An attorney named Glanton is vilified for violating the spirit of the Barnes trust, and he does indulge in some pretty creepy lawyer tricks, but the fact remains that if the art had never been publicly shown, those paintings would likely be molding in a decaying building in a suburb of Philadelphia. Although the process was hastened by greed and by the animosity of his enemies, Barnes's vision contained the seeds of its own destruction. The Reality Principle eroded it like the tide erodes a sandcastle. If it's any consolation, more people are now able to enjoy the art, and Albert Barnes, wherever he is, is beyond caring.

Who speaks for the art...I will!

[DreamerSLL · 8/10 · 23 January 2011]

Not only did I find this film to be an intriguing and well-paced documentary about the move of the Barnes Foundation from its proper home in Merion County, PA to Philadelphia, I also found it very personal.

I, unlike many other people who have written reviews, have actually been to the Barnes Foundation in Merion. I was there almost 10 years ago, but the memory is still vivid, perhaps because it was the most unique art viewing experience I have ever had. No large building could replicate the atmosphere and intimacy of the Barnes Foundation, and even though I have travel extensively and seen some of the most renowned art museums in the world, I would NEVER want the Barnes art to be moved. The US will lose a national treasure when the art is relocated, and I still hold out hope that something can be done about it. That is not even bringing into account Barnes's will and his own desires to keep the art as it is. Apparently nothing is sacred when politicians and big money want it desecrated. The Barnes Foundation is Dr. Barnes' legacy, his gift to the world, and what a gift it is.

Plenty of Blame to Go Around

[marysz · 9/10 · 30 May 2015]

This is a passionately made documentary about how the rug was yanked out from under the legitimate trustees of the Barnes Foundation in order to move its priceless art collection to Philadelphia. I was lucky enough to have visited the Barnes when it was still in Merion. Barnes unintentionally created intractable problems for his collection when he put it in a quiet, affluent, suburban neighborhood, while at the same time intending that his collection should be for ordinary people. This has always puzzled me. Originally, he actually hung the paintings in his factory in Philadelphia so the workers could see them. When the power brokers zoomed in on the Barnes, the residents of Merion, on one hand, wanted the collection to stay in the neighborhood but, on the other hand, made it as difficult as possible for visitors to see it by restricting their numbers. Also, there was no way to reach it by public transportation.The septa station is not close by. This stubbornness on the part of the residents was their fatal flaw--and it made the Foundation vulnerable. By the time the town and county were willing to change the zoning, it was too late. The Annenbergs and the Pew foundation are no angels, but if Barnes had originally put his collection in Philadelphia in the first place, in a working-class neighborhood instead of in a wealthy suburb, he could have fulfilled his ideals about making art accessible to everyone, not just the elite. Unfortunately, even in its new location, it's still not easy to get in and see the collection. Visiting it has always been an elitist experience, ironically.

There are two sides to every story

[seth-levi · 1/10 · 25 February 2010]

As a Philadelphian, I've watched the controversies over the Barnes play out for almost two decades.

Like the small, but vocal group known as "Save the Barnes," the makers of this documentary consistently refuse to acklowdege certain facts and ask difficult question -- they pretend that there were no problems with the museum prior to several years ago. They paint the Barnes move in black-and-white terms, infused with conspiracy theories about Philadelphia's elite plotting for years to "steal" the Barnes' collection.

They never deal with the fact that the whole reason that the move was able to happen is because the museum was mismanaged into bankruptcy, and that few people have much sympathy for the move because the collection was so inaccessible.

Some facts that you're not going to get from the film:

1. The Barnes Foundation was mismanaged into bankruptcy. Lincoln University, who Alfred Barnes put in charge of managing his estate, had no clue how run a world class museum. They allowed the museum building to fall into serious disrepair and did not properly keep up the surround garden. Other mistakes include aspects of the mid-90s tour, which was done in order to raise money to pay for repairs to the building.

The Foundation was warned by art experts that some items in its collection were too fragile to be shipped around the world. Management didn't listen, and a Matisse mural was permanently damaged. By the end of the 1990s Lincoln University burned through the Foundation's endowment, leaving it on the brink of bankruptcy. And it was the fear of banktrupcy that was the impetuts for taking control away from Lincoln and moving the collection.

2. The Museum is inaccessible and management never made any attempt to make it more accessible. The Museum building is located off a side street in a residential neighborhood in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Public transportation does not run directly to it – the closet it gets is a bus stop a half a mile away. Parking is also extremely limited, partly the result of neighbors successfully petitioning the township that the Barnes resides in to limit the amount of on-street parking for cars and buses. Management never made an attempt to setup a private shuttle service or work with SEPTA (the Philadelphia metro area public transit authority) to create a bus that would pick people up at designated points in Philadelphia and take them to the front door of the Barnes. Nor was any attempt made to build a satellite parking lot a mile or so away and have a shuttle service. On top of these transportation issues, because the building that houses the collection is so small, the Barnes required visitors to purchase tickets for a reserved time well in advance.

3. The museum never received any support from the local government. The Montgomery County government only became interested in supporting the Barnes when it began to look like a reality that the collection was going to be moved over the county line into Philadelphia. As already noted, the local government sided with the neighborhoods over the Barnes on the parking issue.

What would have made a far more interesting documentary was examining the greater public interest in the Barnes' art collection being as accessible as possible vs breaking Barnes' will. You have to be delusional to believe that the Barnes collection is accessible. Its location and the small building the collection is in severely limits the number of people who can see the art. Most museums do everything they can to make their collections as accessible as possible. The Lourve, for instance, has such a large collection and not enough floor space that at any given time a good portion of its collection is in storage. This has prompted the museum to setup satelight museums outside of France so that the works in storage and be brought out and put on display. Moving the Barnes to downtown Philadelphia will no doubt allow more people – many more people – to see the collection. Anti-move people and this film are so dogmatic that they've taken the position that this a bad thing. They've become the elitists they claim to be railing against.

Shameful Indictment of the Legal System in Pa and the Nation

[davemed · 10/10 · 2 September 2011]

I say "Legal" system because Justice goes the way of the dollar more often than not ... As it did in this astonishingly sad story of greed and financed by the taxpayers once again. If you've ever wondered why the statue of Lady Justice wears that rag over her eyes, it's because of cases like this. Truly justice isn't so much blind as it is ashamed of what is conducted in its name. How appalling to see scumbag after scumbag apparently proud of the robbery of one man's treasure and the legal owner's will and wishes dissolved in the interest of questionable gain. The sickening parade of the pimping and Saturday night ho-downing by individuals that did nothing in the gathering or promotion of the arts really makes the objective observer to wonder what is wrong in Philadelphia .... Pennsylvania and this country as individual rights are trampled in the by unholy alliances of the worst of the public and private sectors in concert for the worst of our "culture". I rated this a "10", but I wish I hadn't watched it. I've never seen so many soulless individuals in one place for one unholy goal in my life .... except the Bush cabinet, perhaps.

This documentary got me REALLY mad--and that's a sign that it's a really good film!

[planktonrules · 10/10 · 8 November 2011]

While this is not always true, often you can tell a documentary is good because it has a strong visceral effect. As I watched "The Art of the Steal", I had this effect...in spades. And, like a good documentary, it definitely swayed me over to their cause. Convincing the viewer of a cause is definitely what this film does.

The film is about the Barnes Foundation. I knew little about it other than my daughter ADORES the place and tried to take me their recently--only to learn its been closed while the collection is begin relocated...but I am getting ahead of myself...

Dr. Albert C. Barnes was a very rich man who was one of the earliest collectors of Post-impressionist paintings. While museums were still emphasizing classical paintings, Barnes was snatching up Renoirs, Van Goghs and Cezannes in order to build a very, very strong collection. However, Barnes had an unusual vision. He wanted to create his foundation--sort of like an art school and art gallery. But, he disliked the traditional sort of museum and created a truly unique sort of gallery. And, when he died, he set up an extremely detailed trust that outlined exactly what would happen to his collection in perpetuity. The paintings, now seen as the preeminent collection in the world of its type, were not allowed to be sold, loaned out or moved in any way. Barnes wanted his collection to stay the way it was forever. And, considering it was his collection, he certainly had a right to this.

The like of Barnes and creation of the Foundation is all discussed in the first portion of the documentary. What follows is a gradual erosion of the trust--how over the years folks have worked hard to break up or change Barnes' VERY specific and exceptionally clear instructions. First, there was a guy named Glanton. Being a lawyer, you know that he hasn't a soul. His aim was to exploit the collection--sending it on traveling exhibitions and raising money--things the charter forbade. I thoroughly disliked the man as portrayed in the film--especially since, unless it was misrepresented, he was a race-baiter who used ridiculous allegations of racism to bully the neighbors surrounding the Barnes. But, as it turned out, he was a downright saint compared to the folks who followed...and their plans were to pretty much destroy that which Barnes worked so hard to create.

I guess my reason for such a strong visceral reaction is that the film made me mad. The notion that the government or a powerful city bullying and using lawsuits to get their way is un-American--or at least that's how it seems to me. If you want to see exactly why I became so infuriated, see the film. Perhaps you'll see the problems with the Barnes differently--as for me, I sure found myself agreeing wholeheartedly with the filmmakers.

"bad guys" win

[SnoopyStyle · 8/10 · 27 November 2016]

In 1922, Albert Barnes created the Barnes Foundation outside of Philadelphia to house his collection of post-impressionist and early modern art. In 2007, the $Billions collection was 'stolen' from its Lower Merion location to downtown Philadelphia with the need for high-end art for public consumption, crocked politicians, money-hungry non-profits, and big moneyed establishment. Barnes had made his fortune creating a cure. He hated the conservative establishment in Philadelphia and collected great modern artists in Paris when they were dismissed by the art world. His collection was initially attacked by art critics. Then he was criticized for not showing the collection enough. He got into a life-long fight with Philadelphia Inquirer's owners tax-evading Moses Annenberg and Nixonian son Walter. After Barnes' death in 1951, it begins a long running battle to gain control of the foundation. This is very informative and more insightful than most fictional movies. It also proves that the good guys don't always win and money talks. It's a great if one-sided investigative documentary.