The Art of Scorn: The Barnes Foundation

I remember when I moved to a new city a decade ago that I tried to get involved in several area nonprofits. I am passionate about nonprofits and they are a great way to build a personal and professional network all while supporting a good cause. I was particularly excited by the prospect of joining the board of one nonprofit organization that I felt shared my ideals and had a profound mission. I found, though, that their board was insular and unwelcoming. That experience then negatively affected my perception of the organization and the work around their mission.

Dr. Barnes

Dr. Albert Barnes had a similar experience as he was trying to find deeper involvement in Philadelphia’s art scene. Dr. Barnes grew up in modest means as the son of a south Philadelphia butcher. Despite these modest means, he excelled in school and had the opportunity to attend the University of Pennsylvania medical school. He worked as a boxer, tutor, and semi-professional baseball player to work his way through school, but graduated as part of the class of 1892.

Dr. Barnes made a vast fortune inventing Argyrol, which was an antiseptic used to treat blindness in newborns. He used his fortune and high school friendship with artist William Glackens to start amassing an early collection of impressionist masterpieces. But, because of his modest upbringing he never gained the acceptance or respect of the established Philadelphia art community.

The spurning of the Philadelphia art community deeply affected Dr. Barnes. He undertook the study of art himself in collaboration with a friend, John Dewey, and formed strong opinions about art collecting and aesthetics. Study evolved into teaching and Dr. Barnes soon began offering classes in the study of art at his suburban Philadelphia home.

The Barnes Foundation

The Barnes received a Pennsylvania corporate charter in 1922. It was originally established as an educational institution dedicated to teaching art aesthetics and horticultural design. Barnes gifted his vast art collection to the institution, which by that time included hundreds of masterpieces by the likes of Renoir, Cezanne, Matisse, Picasso, and Van Gogh.

Reflecting his spurning by Philadelphia high society, Dr. Barnes sought to keep the art establishment out. During his lifetime, he would often abrasively deny requests to see the collection. Seeking to keep the Barnes’s restrictions in place after his death, Dr. Barnes enlisted the help of his attorney to draft a trust that strictly limited how the Barnes could operate. He specifically expressed that attendance should be limited to “the plain people, that is, men and women who gain their livelihood by daily toil in shops, factories, schools, stores and similar places.”[1] To further keep high society out, the galleries were only open on Saturdays and Sundays between September and June.[2] No outside events were to permitted on the grounds and the trustees were strictly bound to invest the underlying $6 million endowment in government bonds.[3]

The trust also limited how the museum could manage its artwork. Dr. Barnes controlled acquisitions and deaccessions during his lifetime, but after his death, the trust closed the collection and only allowed for disposal of the artwork if it were destroyed. The trust also disallowed the changing of the way that the artwork was displayed after Dr. Barnes’s death.[4] This included removing paintings from the collection so that they could be sold or part of a travelling exhibition and even how it was hung on the wall. To further set his intentions in stone, the trust mandated that the rules were “unamendable and shall never be amended in any manner whatsoever.”[5]

Trouble for the Barnes

The fences that Dr. Barnes constructed to keep the wealthy out also imprisoned the effective operation of the institution. The strict endowment investment rules meant that the endowment soon struggled to provide sufficient financial support for the galleries.[6] Additionally, because all events were prohibited, no admission fee could be levied, and no loaning allowed, the Barnes was not able to leverage income streams that other similarly-situated art institutions enjoyed.[7] This, and alleged financial mismanagement, caused further turmoil for the Barnes.

"The fences that Dr. Barnes constructed to keep the wealthy out also imprisoned the effective operation of the institution."

After Dr. Barnes death, the public quickly challenged the limitations on access to the gallery.[8] A Pennsylvania court found the restrictions in violation of the Barnes’ stance that it was an education institution and sited multiple instances throughout the bylaws in which the Barnes referred to itself as an art gallery.[9] Following this, access to the public was broadened.

Increased access put additional strains on the Barnes. By 1988, administration had transitioned to Lincoln University and the underlying endowment was insufficient to cover the gallery’s operations expenses. The Barnes, via restrictions in the trust, was also not able to enjoy the income from various events and travelling exhibitions that similarly-situated art institutions were able to undertake. This, and alleged mismanagement, caused further distress for the gallery and the collection.

Courts initially granted further relief to the Barnes and allowed the organization to open its galleries more frequently and to charge an admission fee. The increased traffic aggravated the neighboring communities and the grounds housing the Barnes remained difficult to access. As the challenges for the Barnes continued to mount, the Board of Trustees petitioned a court to expand the size of the board and proposed moving the gallery to a location in central Philadelphia. The move was to be funded by several prominent Philadelphia-based charitable foundations, but funding was predicated on the Barnes relocation.

The proposal caused outrage among the art communities closely associated with the Barnes. They argued that allowing a move and expansion were not in keeping with the clear instructions that Dr. Barnes set forth.

Ultimately, a court decided that expansion of the Board was appropriate and in keeping with the modern practices around nonprofit management. It also granted permission to move the gallery to Center City Philadelphia. In its reasoning, the court found that the relocation of the gallery was permissible if it could be proven that relocation was necessary. The Barnes Board of Trustees initially failed in this burden, but several months later proved the necessity of the move, which was then granted by the Court.[10]

The new Barnes building opened in Center Philadelphia in 2012. The building maintains galleries that showcase Dr. Barnes’s collections in the way that they were displayed at the original gallery following his death and classrooms to continue the Barnes’s educational programs. Importantly, though, the new building also houses spaces to host rotating exhibitions outside the Barnes collection and spaces for corporations and individuals to host private events.[11] General admission is currently set at $25.

Hindsight 20/20: What to do about the Barnes Trust

At its heart, the Barnes saga demonstrates the importance of inclusion. The restrictions Dr. Barnes put in place were largely a reaction to his reception in Philadelphia art circles. Because Dr. Barnes was denied, he, too, sought to deny them. A more inclusive approach and opportunities to engage multiple audiences in charitable missions can go a long way to prevent the harsh feelings that Dr. Barnes and others have felt.

The other breakdown of Dr. Barnes’s trust was its rigidity. The trust did not allow the Barnes to adapt for changing times. As events and travelling exhibitions evolved into important revenue streams for other art institutions, the Barnes Foundation, ironically like its founder, was left out. Notably, the core aspects of the Barnes mission were left untouched by the courts—the artwork still hangs in its original orientation and the institution still offers instruction in art aesthetics. If the foundation had been granted flexibility in its operation, including admission, fundraising, and investment, it may have proved sufficient to keep the Barnes financially viable and with that viability, the move may have been prevented.

For donors who currently wish to assign restrictions to their gifts, flexibility is an important key component to giving. In structuring a gift and underlying restrictions, any requirements should be limited and squarely focused on the key elements of the gift that reflect the mission and values of the donor. All other aspects of the gift unrelated to the core mission and values should be precatory, thereby allowing the gift and the organization to evolve with changing circumstances.

In the End

At the end of the day, the Barnes story teaches a basic lesson—be kind to one another.

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[1] See Barnes Foundation Bylaws, Sec. 2, para. 30 (as amended Apr. 30, 1946). [2] Id. [3] See Barnes Foundation Bylaws, Sec. 2 (as amended Jan. 29, 1941) (“. . . but after Donor’s death, such moneys may only be invested by Donee in such obligations of the United States of America, obligations of the several States of the United States and obligations of municipal corporations and districts in the several States of the United States which are legal investments for savings banks under the laws of the State of New York.”). [4] “All the paintings shall remain in exactly the places they are at the time of the death of Donor.” See Barnes Foundation Bylaws, Sec. 2 (Dec. 6, 1922). [5] Commonwealth v. the Barnes Foundation, 159 A.2d 500 (Pa. 1960). [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]