As Anne mentioned in class last Thursday, I probably did not spend enough time with my painting. I also did not know what Barnes wanted us to experience when we looked at his collection. 

That being said, I’m not very keen on trying to unravel Barnes’s expectations and wishes for us. I am more interested on the history of the collection post-Barnes and how it affected my perception of the works themselves. How did all the tangles of bogus lawsuits, greedy political motives, and Merion station vs. Benjamin Franklin parkway somehow make all the works more profound? 

Use this as a segway to one of my favorite documentaries of all time: The Rape of Europa. It’s a detailed movie of how Hitler purged European art to meet his own standards during WWII and how the works have changed because of it.

After revisiting the Barnes Foundation through the movie and articles and through the class discussion, my reading of the visit has been provided with a new context. The first time trough I through I thought only of the Seurat painting that I chose to spend time with. Re-reading this experience, it is clear to me that I need to look at that painting not only for what it is on its own, but for how it fits into the grand scheme of the room and the rest of the works in the collection. The way Barnes put everything together, it was meant to be viewed as a part of a greater whole not as an individual piece.

Another Idea that we discussed at length in class is the true value of art. In a rewrite of the essay I wrote, I would talk about how the true value of art comes not from what you see in the piece, but in how you experience it. Through this perspective, the art collected in the Barnes Foundation should never have been moved from its original location because the place where the work is held and the way in which it is displayed is a huge part of how it is experienced. Every last detail is significant in determining the value of the artwork. Moving the collection redefined the true value of the art into something that Barnes (the original creator of this collection’s true value) did not intend, changing not only the value of the art but, by extension, the art itself. 

At what point in time after death does a person become a figure? A legend? A character?

In my rewrite of my essay, "The Tree's Solemn Warning," I'm going to explore a few ideas. I'm going to move more into the three neighbouring portraits that surround Utrillo's painting. This will introduce the idea of large, close-up images of individual persons versus the small, basic people figures depicted by Utrillo. So, who's a figure? Who's an image? Who's a person?

I reread the articles and essays, and I think I'm mainly going to stick with "The Barnes Foundation, RIP" article, which gave me some great ideas. I haven't fully organised them all, but they are something along the lines of: looking at Barnes as a figure - about whose depiction I am mainly learning from this article - and as a character who carries symbols and meanings in his story. These items would include his history as a wrestler, his career as a "pharmaceutical magnate," and his intentions of creating an educational institution. After his death [the point where he now becomes a character] his story more strongly tells of economic and business incentives in the mask of others' educational intentions.

If I'm to reread barnes after I know all the history behind it, I will focus on the museum itself instead of a single painting. I want to try to imagine what Barnes expect when the visitors see the building. I would also take a look at the stucture of display in the museum, and find out the meaning behind it. It would not be a normal museum for me.

"Some pictures are unattractive and significant, some paintings are insignificant and attractive. This is both unattractive and insignificant. " - a guy in the movie

I was a little bit struck by how unfair a claim this is. I understand the "significance" of a piece to be equivalent to its historical relevance, and I can see how art historians have a very distinct idea of what art is relevant to them. Yet, a piece of art could have historical significance that isn't from as limited a perspective of an art historian's. It could have been passed down throughout the generations of a family, or created by a friend or loved one. Then, there's the "attractiveness" of art. Generally, certain things are more pleasing to the eye than others--complementary colors, good framing of the subject, etc. But if the subject perhaps reminds the viewer of the viewer's friend, that particular viewer might find the piece to be quite attractive. I think that certain elements of attractiveness can be attributed to taste. Despite this, I think there is some validity to the statement, in that the painting might not have been attractive or significant to Barnes. I'm actually pretty sure Barnes would argue that the emotional connections to the painting that I speak of are from a lack of training in the viewer, and that the emotional connection should be found after having analyzed the painting from a more educated point of view.

I'm still not sure what I want to write about next week, but I would like to keep in mind that to a certain degree, art is subjective.

When I went to the Barnes I was attracted to my painting because of the sense of joyful movement that it gave me. I would like to think of this first attraction as an  “esthetic” experience, which I managed to have in an environment that was not how Barnes originally intended. Even in an overcrowded room with upper-class people, encapsulated in a modern box and in a nice neighborhood the art was not completely stripped of its potential to allow people to think in some of ways that Barnes planned. After Barnes’s death I don’t think either location would ever have attracted a crowd that wasn’t skewed towards upper class, especially considering that the old Barnes was located in a rich neighborhood. In my revision I want to look at the new Barnes as a pieces of artwork in itself and try to read it using Barnes’s principals.

When It’s A Bad Time 

The college process is hardly kind to anybody.  As a freshman in college, I am finding myself looking back on my admissions process with more of an understanding as to its long-term effect on the mind.  The selection process utilized by most colleges and universities essentially aims to compare the qualities and statistical achievements of a student to those of the current student body, thus determining a certain “fit” that must be met to determine acceptance to the school. A mosaic of sorts, or so it seems they aim for: what “student” are you, and is that what we are looking for in our “community”?

Bryn Mawr was the only college that seemed truly invested in figuring out my place (or lack thereof) in the college’s community.  Admittedly, it is a huge marketing pull on their part.  Standing with such open arms on the opposite side of the harrowing college process was indeed a wonderful feeling, but it prevented me from accurately reflecting on the extremely problematic nature of the pre-college admissions process, more specifically towards those who struggle or have struggled with mental illness.

What struck me most in reading the articles and watching the movie was the long history of corruption involved in the care of the Barnes museum. It was not a case of faithful following of Barnes' will up until the point where it was suddenly moved to Philadelphia out of a lack of funds, it was far more complicated than that. However, I find this would not be a useful piece of information for writing a paper. To write a paper on how the Barnes Foundation was cared for, I would need to essentially summarize the movie, and I do not remember all of the different people who were in charge of it. Most of the story of the actual school/museum does not affect my reading of the painting itself. Since I knew before going to the Barnes Foundation that Barnes intended for us to read the painting in terms of what else was on the same wall, I included this approach in my original reading. The only thing I find different is that I am even more struck by the sense that I am not supposed to be there, visiting the Barnes, than I was before. Barnes didn't want Bryn Mawr students to come to his collection, even when it was practically in our backyard. He didn't want us to be able to simply go in on any day. He especially didn't want us able to research any given painting and looking into its background, as was provided by the audio tours. However, I see no way I can use this to grow my paper.

I would like to focus on intellectual property and human rights in my upcoming paper. I will be reading some of the novel Intellectual Property and Human Development and I will be exploring utilitarian arguments concerning intellectual property. While watching The Art of Steal I thought about one of the proponent's (of the move of the Barnes Foundation) arguments: that art should be accessible to large groups of people. Although the film did not emphasize this argument, the argument is a good one, and at the core of it are the issues of intellectual property and human rights. So, is art the property of the person who buys it? Or, is it human property? Since Van Gogh's art influences massive amounts of people, does it belong to humanity or to the sole owner of the Van Gogh? I think it would be a mighty feat to answer these questions and I doubt I'll be able to do it. But, I hope to explore these issues and the questions they raise.

Barnes Foundation gave me an impression of expensive when I entered. The minimalist architecture, the coat and bag searching, the well-dressed visitors, and the large empty space felt expensive. It smelled expensive. So I thought "well, another Parkway building". But I came back and watch the documentary, and realized that this was exactly what Barnes didn't want. So maybe I'll write about the different experiences one would have in the old and new building.

As for the last trip, I'm interested in Philadelphia's Mural Arts Program, specifically The North Philadelphia Beacon Project, because it decorates the most ramshackle area of Philly.