Architecture Getaway to Philadelphia: The Barnes Foundation

As I walked through the entrance gate of the newly relocated Barnes Foundation in downtown Philadelphia, I wondered if I were about to enter a contemporary art museum. But, no, this was actually the Barnes with the astounding collection of 181 Renoirs, 69 Cézannes, 46 Picassos, 59 Matisses, 18 Rousseaus, extensive Asian, African and American Indian artifacts and decorative ironwork. The architects, Tod Williams and Billie Tsien, tried hard to match the aesthetic magnificence on display in the new building, but substantially missed the mark.
I was familiar with the extraordinary collection and controversy about its relocation. The major conflict about moving the art to downtown Philadelphia from the suburb of Merion was the subject of a superb documentary titled, The Art of the Steal. The new building opened in May, 2012 along the Benjamin Franklin Parkway and within walking distance of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and Rodin Museum.

Dr. Albert Barnes grew up in Philadelphia and died in 1951. His pharmaceutical company invented Argyrol, which prevented eye infections and blindness in newborns. It was the source of his wealth and he sold his company before the crash of 1929 so that he could focus on art, which he began to collect in 1912.


Driveway entrance

The driveway entrance at the new site was quite understated. Once inside the gate, I did not expect to see a 40-foot stainless-steel sculpture by Ellsworth Kelly at the head of the reflecting pool. What was the Kelly piece doing there? It was not created for the Barnes. It was donated by the Neubauer Family Foundation. 

Tree-lined path and reflecting pool leading to museum entrance

My first view of the museum was in profile. Negev stone panels with bronze accents formed the exterior walls of the building. I walked along a tree-lined path that paralleled the museum and pool. When I reached the low bridge to the main entrance, I paused to contemplate the imposing void in front of me with an offset door and stone panels that surrounded the entry. Barnes was known for juxtaposing his art in unorthodox hangings and so I started to form a theory that perhaps the architects wanted to create their own juxtaposition between the museum and the collection.

Museum entrance

This Barnesian concept was severely tested once I stepped inside the building. The circulation and signage (or lack thereof) were a disaster. The foyer consisted of a redundant reception desk (the first was at the main gate), poorly marked restaurant entrance, stairway to the Lower Level, projected "welcome" sign in multiple languages on a concrete wall...where was the entrance to the galleries? I showed my timed ticket to a woman who failed the hospitality test of anticipating a visitor's needs and then I walked over to a security person, who said that I had to go downstairs to check my bag first. Here's a tip for visiting the Barnes: If you need to use the restroom, you will have to go to the Lower Level because there are no bathroom facilities in the exhibition area of the museum. The coffee bar was also located on this level. It appeared to be a design afterthought because it was tucked away in a corner and did not even have an espresso machine. 

When I returned upstairs to the main level, I had to traverse a cavernous "indoor court" that was pure wasted space. At that moment, I knew that this building could be summed up as big budget+big impression+misdirected focus=major disappointment. Who would want to sit down and linger in this soulless space? I observed only a few visitors on the sofas. How many people noticed the narrow, elevated water feature along one wall? Why do enormous panels block the view of the terrace? Was the ceiling "lightbox" supposed to engender awe at the diffused light?

The 12,000 square feet of exhibition galleries were recreated as they appeared in the original Merion location. In his will, Barnes stipulated that the art should always remain in Merion (which it obviously did not) and be displayed in the same way. The beautiful collection enabled me to forget about the rest of the building and concentrate on the art. After I finished viewing the first floor, I asked where I could find a restroom. I was told that I would have to leave the galleries and go to the Lower Level. Instead, I continued viewing the collection on the second floor. The art was visually overwhelming. Barnes would often rehang the works in groupings that he called ensembles. These juxtapositions were puzzles for the viewer to solve by discovering the connections between the works. The Card Players, The Dance, The Postman and Leaving the Conservatory will always draw the crowds, but there were other pieces that I thoroughly enjoyed viewing as well. The African sculptures, unfortunately assembled tightly together in display cases, were riveting and the small Pennsylvania Dutch works were charming.

When I finished viewing all of the galleries, I had a bite to eat at the Garden Restaurant. I had a delicious quiche and small salad. The museum should have done a better job in promoting the restaurant.

Irrespective of how hard Williams and Tsien may have tried to create an architecturally important structure for the display of the Barnes collection, they failed. The building could have been built anywhere. What a pity that it was for the Barnes.

Exterior of museum