Rufus & Clementinedivining a sumptuous life…

art. evokes emotion. inspires ideas. requires action.

The Art of The Steal came in the mail today.  The end credits have rolled and I’ve just pressed pause.  Seriously, my head and heart ache.  The art, that Dr. Barnes was touched by and collected, changed my life.

Dr. Barnes created a home for that art on a piece property a little less than five miles from Philadelphia that showcases an unbelievable collection amassed by just one person.

There’s a point in the film where you get to really see what Dr. Barnes wanted from his space.  He used it to teach and draw connections between art and life and people.  His wanted to educate, not just display.

As the camera pans the gallery, there are a few Modiglianis that share the same wall as African masks in a glass cabinet.  I was struck.  That moment took me back almost 20 years to a connection I made on my own that would open my eyes to so much.

In the summer of ’93, before my best friend moved to New York, we braved the crowds at the National Gallery of Art to see the paintings from the collection of the Barnes Foundation.  I stood there looking at one of Modigliani’s reclining women.

It was like I’d never seen a painting that meant anything to me before.  Never seen a painting that stopped me and wouldn’t let go.  Never one, in a town full of museums, that was so different, yet as familiar as the mostly African and African-American art that lived all over my mom’s house.

I made that connection between what was on the walls of the National Gallery of Art and what was at home.  I got that her face was like the masks and figures that I looked at every day. But, I also stood a foot from color I’d never felt so vibrant.  Layers of color that drew me in.  The tones of someone else’s skin against a couch so rich, so deep and textured. I don’t remember any other painting I saw that day.

That Modigliani that Dr. Barnes made a part of his legacy didn’t change my life in a way that made me want to be a painter, want to work in a gallery or dive headlong into the art world.  In a way, it just gave me permission.  Permission to believe in what I was drawn to and to allow myself to want to know more while feeling a little less intimidated.

After watching The Art Of The Steal, I would give that all up for the collection to have never been able to travel.  I knew back then that this was NOT what the good Dr. wanted.  I just didn’t know that it was the beginning of what seems to be one of those long cons that has played out over the last two decades.

I only hope that those folks with dollar signs in their eyes aren’t the only ones that win in the end.

Nikki♥