When a cultural organization wants to get all of New York’s art writers into a room for a press briefing, an invitation to lunch at the Midtown seafood heaven Le Bernardin is not a bad way to do it. That was the tactic that Pennsylvania’s Barnes Foundation adopted for a press briefing about the upcoming inauguration of its new Philadelphia home yesterday. And it worked: the city’s art journalists packed into a private room at the restaurant. It was a scene.
But then the affair took a dangerous turn. As those writers arrived, word spread that no wine was listed on the set menus, and one journalist noted in a whisper that there were no wine glasses on the tables. In fact, the only tulip-shaped glass at each place setting lacked a stem. That wouldn’t do for white, and certainly the restaurant would not serve red with the promised salmon course. “Surprising, no?” one veteran journalist said, eyes wide.
There would be no wine, only
There have been other auspicious achievements for the Barnes, like a series of legal triumphs over the Friends of the Barnes, an organization that had attempted to stop its move from suburban Merion, Penn., to the City of Brotherly Love. Those protestors argued that move violated the terms of founder Dr. Albert Barnes’s will, which stated that his rich collection of Picassos, Renoirs, Matisses and other works was to remain intact in his home after his death. The board, though, argued the move was essential to ensuring the long-term health of the museum, bringing it to a wider audience. It won.
Husband-and-wife architects Billie Tsien and Tod Williams gave a virtual tour of the new museum, which replicates the dimensions of the original Barnes estate, and adds space for education programs, conservation and a café. Its wrapped with limestone from the Negev desert in Israel. “Each piece of stone is embedded with fossils, making it as unique as a piece of art,” a woman’s voice in that video intoned. Wood for the floors was reclaimed from a boardwalk in Coney Island. It is LEED Platinum certified–as green as it gets.
Some have questioned the Barnes’s decision to move a Matisse, The Dance (1932-33), which the artist made specifically for the Merion estate, into the new home. But the deed is done. “Was moving The Dance a good idea?” critic Tyler Green asked earlier this week. “We’ll see.” Ms. Tsien, at least, is convinced of the move. She started crying when she first saw it in its new home, she admitted. “It felt as if the painting had moved 20 feet closer to my eyes,” she said, and added, “It’s never really been lit before. The paintings look like they have been cleaned, but they haven’t been cleaned. You’re just able to see them now for the first time.”
Visitors will, of course, have to decide for themselves once the museum opens to the pubic on May 19. As for other critical judgments, by late afternoon, Newsweek/Daily Beast critic Blake Gopnik had made up his mind about that fish (which, for the record, we found plump and juicy, made all the better by the ample, subtle hollandaise sauce). Posting to Twitter, he wrote of the “Shockingly dry, flabby farmed salmon,” but added, “I guess beggars can’t be choosers…”
