The Maverick's Museum: Albert Barnes and His American Dream

by Blake Gopnik

A fascinating biography of the philanthropist Albert Barnes, whose pioneering collection of modern art was meant to transform America’s soul

From prominent critic and biographer Blake Gopnik comes a compelling new portrait of America’s first great collector of modern art, Albert Coombs Barnes. Raised in a Philadelphia slum shortly after the Civil War, Barnes rose to earn a medical degree and then made a fortune from a pioneering antiseptic treatment for newborns. Never losing sight of the working-class neighbors of his youth, Barnes became a ruthless advocate for their rights and needs. His vast art collection—180 Renoirs, 67 Cézannes, 59 Matisses, 45 Picassos—was dedicated to enriching their cultural lives. A miner was more likely to get access than a mine owner.

Gopnik’s meticulous research reveals Barnes as a fierce advocate for the egalitarian ideals of his era’s progressive movement. But while his friends in the movement worked to reshape American society, Barnes wanted to transform the nation’s aesthetic life, taking art out of the hands of the elite and making it available to the average American.

The Maverick’s Museum offers a vivid picture of one of America’s great eccentrics. The sheer ferocity of Barnes’s democratic ambitions left him with more enemies than allies among people of all classes, but for a circle of intimates, he was a model of intelligence, generosity, and loyalty. In this compelling portrait, Gopnik reveals a life shaped by contradictions, one that left a lasting impact.

Genres: Art, Biography, Nonfiction, History, Art History, Biography Memoir, American History

404 pages, Hardcover

Published March 18, 2025

About the author

Blake Gopnik (born 1963 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) is an American art critic who has lived in New York City since 2011. He previously spent a decade as chief art critic of The Washington Post[1], prior to which he was an arts editor and critic in Canada[2]. He has a doctorate in art history from Oxford University, and has written on aesthetic topics ranging from Facebook to gastronomy.

Reviews

[Samantha · Rating 2 out of 5]

A well written and honest biography of a man who I’m unfortunately not certain we ought to be singing the praises of at the moment.

I’m generally in favor of meeting historical figures in the time and place where they lived in terms of their viewpoints and cultural values, but I struggle with lauding someone for their alleged activism when they were mostly talking out of both sides of their mouth.

While it’s true that Barnes sought to bring positive attention to nonwhite artists and to the cause of racial equality in general, he also reverted to racial slurs and racist ideology when it was convenient for him. He engaged consistently in deeply misogynistic behavior and was unapologetically antisemitic. I have a lot of trouble rah-rahing for a person like this, especially at the current fractious moment in which all of the above groups are being victimized in the country where I live.

I think it’s fine to appreciate that he had a good eye for art and was skilled at formalist criticism, but to act like he’s a hero to some nebulously defined “the people” feels a bit off the mark at best.

To that end, I also struggle to see Barnes as any kind of hero in the context of making art available to all when his attitude feels more about thumbing his nose at formal education than about any kind of real egalitarian principles. He seems to see himself as some sort of crusader for the common folk, but all I see is another insecure white man who seems threatened by the educated and scholarly members of society. Which again, feels like an especially bad look right now.

In the end, I guess I just can’t get on board with this particular choice for “under-appreciated” men of history at this particular time. I am all for acknowledging Barnes’ contributions to art and art criticism and for enjoying a visit to his collection, but I’m sick of seeing men from relatively recent history get the hero treatment for getting it right about a quarter of the time.

*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*

[Moonkiszt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Blake Gopnik's latest work The Maverick's Museum: Albert Barnes and His American Dream introduces readers to an amazing man, a scientist-salesman-art collector with dreams big enough to fill Pennsylvania. He established the Barnes Foundation as an institution to first educate, and second to house and maintain his collection - items from all over the world he began to collect in 1902 (he had too much money) and had fortune enough to connect with powers in the art world such as Picasso, Guillaume and Modigliani, among many others.

While some of the art came from those who did traditional work, the art he most sought in his collection travels was not traditional. He would at first head for famous artists, but as he hunted more seriously his heart was firmly set on art that wasn't their usual work - it was work that, within the context of the time they painted, proved to be outside public expectations. Too much this, not enough that, outside all the rules. AC Barnes trusted his own eyes and preferences, and had gathered a revolving cadre of expert companions. Not just any Renoir or Picasso that would do. . .it had to be different and communicate something specific to the viewer, it had to create something new combining with the viewer's experience. Collected art pieces were not limited to paintings. Sculptures, cultural artifacts, anything that caught his eye that qualified according to his own selection process, the more shockable the better. Many of his pieces were nakedness in all its many, too naked for prime time, forms.

This well-researched read provides a fascinating presentation of this eclectic man - brilliant, opinionated, quixotic - hard to pin down unless it was his idea. Even given a project was of his own making, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't turn on it within a sliver of time or a whiff of disappointing execution. The author provides readers with the competing responses Albert Barnes evoked in the people he worked with and for, the artists he supported and used, and the movers and shakers who could help him realize his dreams and the ones who stood in his path. Albert C. Barnes was a fierce man with a message, and wanted his museum to carry that forward past his time with boots on the ground.

The work itself is well-supported with photographs of Barnes' world, where he lived and worked, as well as some of the most famous pieces from his collection. The Barnes Foundation is still up and running, although the decision-makers have allowed themselves to relax some of its founder's strict rules. Meaning more time open and available, and parts of the collection are allowed to go on tour enabling people in other parts of the world to see the significant consequence of Albert Barnes' Great American Dream.

My museum fav? Van Gogh's Postman, and oh, so many others!

*A sincere thank you to Blake Gopnik, Ecco, and NetGalley for an ARC to read and review independently.* #TheMavericksMuseum #NetGalley | Pub date Mar 18 2025

[BAM who is Beth Anne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Being from Philly and a frequent visitor to this museum. I really wanted to love this book, but it’s a tough one to get through. Gopnik clearly did his homework — the research is deep, the details are endless — but it often reads more like an academic paper than a story. It’s heavy, dense, and sometimes you have to dig to find the human underneath all the context.

That said, Albert Barnes himself IS worth knowing about. He’s this wildly complex figure — a working-class genius who made a fortune in science, then used it to revolutionize how people saw art. He wanted to make art accessible to everyone, but his own arrogance kept him from letting anyone in. He’s brilliant and infuriating all at once. What stuck with me most was that tension: how someone so intent on democratizing beauty could become its biggest gatekeeper. It’s fascinating, frustrating, and a little tragic — the story of a man who changed how we see art, but couldn’t get out of his own way long enough to share it.

[Giana · Rating 3 out of 5]

For full transparency, I got this as an ARC giveaway from Goodreads, but that does not affect my review. Because this is an ARC, I can't necessarily comment on the final product- I don't know what (if any) of this will be different in the published book. These are just my thoughts from what I was given.

I always enjoy reading a biography about someone new, someone I didn't know about. In that regard, this was very interesting. I'd never heard of Barnes before this and he seemed like a very eclectic man. However, I'm still not very sure how well I know him. I can't quite put my finger on what didn't mesh for me, so I could be making it up, but I got the sense that this was a series of vignettes about the man instead of a cohesive narrative. The chapters were short, which made for a quick read, but I feel like it also meant we couldn't get into any details. We were thrown facts about the man but we were told very few specific anecdotes or shown scenes to back up the overview (sometimes we'd get more details in long parentheticals or allusions to longer stories, but nothing was expanded much upon). I'm afraid I didn't keep track of specific examples, but it almost felt like this was a third or fourth draft that needed another hundred pages or so to be fully fleshed out.

Additionally, I think the synopsis was slightly misleading. I thought this would be more about Barnes as an activist, a defender of the more vulnerable members of society. In actuality, this book seemed to primarily focus on Barnes as an art collector. We learned a lot about art: about his opinions on art, about how he acquired art, about how he thought about art, about what others thought of his art. If that's something that interests you, you'll love this book. For me, it was interesting at first, but it got to be too much. I did enjoy the many photographs of the artwork in this book, though.

All in all, this could be a very engaging biography to some, but it didn't quite work for me, though I did learn a lot from it.

[George Ilsley · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked this book up because I had encountered Barnes on tour in 1993 in Toronto, and was overwhelmed to be in the presence of dozens of works by Matisse, Cezanne, van Gogh, and so on. Oh yes, and Renoir. And more. Modigliani, how did I not mention Modigliani!

As you can see, I am still overwhelmed.

This book too is overwhelming, in the mass of information, circling around the unfathomable contradictory "larger than life" personality of Alfred Barnes. Never one to be graceful (except when he wanted to), and prone to picking fights, his prickly personality was quick to react and overreact (a "pepperpot" in the language of the day).

He could be mean, sarcastic, dismissive, and was a notorious bridge-burner. And yet he created the Barnes Foundation and an impressive art collection (the 1930s Depression was helpful in making art affordable) which continues to this day.

This book essentially ends at Barnes's death in 1951; after that there is a brief epilogue which brings us up to the time of writing. But so much had happened since 1951, including the two-year tour starting in 1993 which raised $17 million dollars, funds desperately needed by the Foundation.

I struggled at times with this book, since it is difficult to get a handle on Barnes's complex personality, and his many feuds and shifting alliances. Mercifully, chapters are short. Sometimes I was fascinated and then I was bored.

This book does have a number of colour plates of art works; otherwise one has to reflect back to your visit to the Barnes Foundation, or perhaps, that time in Toronto when a selection of art from Barnes's collection came to visit.

[Paige Sellars · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fascinating story about the life of an art collector, medical doctor, and drug producer. Gopnik does a fantastic job of weaving together both narratives of Barnes’ life, with facts, anecdotes, and funny commentary. He particularly excels at explaining how and why Barnes was helpful to art history and helping promote Black artists and equality, as well as championing women, but also explaining the downsides to his active role as benefactor, which could be sometimes clouded by his short fused temper, patronizing attitude, and casual racism which was typical for the 20th century. I love the Barnes Foundation and this gave me a lot of insight about its founding and the founder himself.

[Alison Fulmer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting history of the Barnes Museum and its unusual founder. A long and detailed read but worth it. I was able to see the art collection in Philadelphia. Highly recommend and would be even better if one had read this book on advance

[Bennett Windheim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having only moved from New York City to Philadelphia less than three years ago (as of this writing), I knew nothing of The Barnes Foundation prior to my arrival here. I'd heard mention of it in passing as an important benefit of our move, but imagined some sort of resurrected barn dedicated to rural antiques. Not really my thing.

My first visit to The Barnes was an eye-opener. It is a spectacular, modern space, less than 10 minutes' walk from our house, dedicated to art from the turn of the last century (Albert Barnes' period of focus) and the shift from traditional realism to modernism. There you'll find a breathtaking collection of paintings by Cezanne, Renoir, Monet, Picasso, Matisse, Pippin, Modigliani and Seurat configured in a way that only made sense to its founder and is now, as Blake Gopnik emphasizes in the final pages of his biography, open to interprepation by the masses.

Just as the museum (I hesitate to use that word; it's really more of an education center) was new and fascinating to me, so was the life of its founder, Dr. Albert C. Barnes, an almost unfathomably complex character, at once a fearless fighter for progressive, anti-racist values and...at times...racist. An autodidact when it came to art, yet one whose hunger for enlightenment led to surrounding himself with some of the greatest practitioners in the arts, philosophy and education.

Somehow, Gopnik has found a way to capture all the various colors of Barnes. As much as the paintings "Doctor" so coveted and acquired, the character of Barnes The Man is as impressionistic a work as can be viewed at the Foundation, a man whose mind and actions were expressed in both broad (some might say crude) strokes and pointillist details (as befits a scientist).

Yet Gopnik never tells us how to feel about Barnes; he lays out the facts in journalistic yet crisply conversational prose - supported by a tremendous body of research - and leaves the final impression to us.

[Felicia Ho · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fascinating look at a very complicated and contradictory man. Who knew the man behind one of the most pristine, sleek spaces in Philly—seemingly so carefully curated and directed—had so many layers to peel away? Yes, there were whispers I caught of this when some locals mentioned Barnes was adamant about keeping the works at his estate (and nowhere else…), but not to this degree — that he picked fights with everyone? But yet was a huge proponent of close accomplices.. and only to turn on them at a whim in 5 years.

I appreciated the short chapters to break up the points, but found (maybe because this was an audiobook format for me oop clerkships) that it was disorienting at times to hear the little epithet at the beginning of each chapter before diving in. Overall, though, it all flowed quite well — if I had paid more attention on my end to all the names, probably would be even more impactful! Definitely a lot of research and substance here, especially in tracing each and every one of Barnes’ relationships — and outlining all the philosophy! Also interesting to hear he had such practical, education-minded goals for his museum. Will definitely be checking out the museum next time in this context… a museum for the practice of democracy. hm!

[Andy Klein · Rating 2 out of 5]

A mediocre book. It didn’t hold my interest. I could have learned as much by reading his Wikipedia entry.

[Lisa-Michele · Rating 5 out of 5]

Albert Barnes (1872-1951) was a rags-to-riches wealthy man who became obsessed with modern art in the early 1900s and built a Philadelphia museum that still stands today. The 1942 Saturday Evening Post labeled him “The Philadelphia Pepperpot – The Terrible Tempered Dr. Barnes.” Others saw him as principled: “His ferocious, lifelong rejection of elites and elitism – racial, economic, social, artistic, intellectual – was at the root of the achievement of this dedicated democrat as he collected, considered, and taught modern art.” I kept reading while on the edge of my seat, trying to make sense of such a controversial and confounding character.

Barnes was clearly brilliant, having clawed his way out of extreme poverty to attend medical school and develop an unusual antiseptic which made him millions. He set goals: “to make an important discovery, have a million dollars, work out my own ideals as to happiness, have an opinion on any subject that could compare with any man’s no matter how educated or experienced that man would be.” After he checked off the discovery and the wealth, he set about forming opinions. It was fascinating to see how his mind worked. At first, he tried to join Philadelphia’s Main Line elite but failed. Then he reached out to a childhood friend – the artist William Glackens – and asked him to help him collect art. Glackens was from New York’s Ashcan school of painters and a leader of American avant-garde. It took off from there!

By 1912 Barnes was sending Glackens to Paris with a wad of cash to buy art from Van Gogh, Cezanne, Renoir, and Picasso. While managing his antiseptic factory Barnes became convinced that art appreciation was the key to rising above one’s circumstances. He prescribed art classes for all his workers, most of whom were people of color in turn-of-the-century America. His obsession with “educating” people what art meant – always on his terms – puzzled me. Who decides what art we connect with and why? “Art appreciation can no more be absorbed by aimless wandering in galleries than surgery can be learned by casual visits to a hospital,” Barnes bellowed.

Barnes’ buying sprees continued until he amassed 900 paintings including 181 from Renoir, 46 from Picasso, and dozens of others from Cezanne, Matisse, Monet, and Manet. “However much Barnes might have truly enjoyed the pictures he bought, the iconoclast in him must have got as much pleasure from smashing genteel standards…”. The modern art he collected was revolutionary for its time. He also conducted a series of public feuds: “forty years of combat, waged with equal fury over fire truck funding, and real estate zoning, and public education, and racial equality and especially, again and again, over what art was truly great…”

Barnes had no heirs so left his fortune to support his museum. Like other eccentrics, he prescribed that the art must remain exactly as he arranged it, perpetually. The author renders his own judgment: “Barnes’s public cruelties might be just about balanced by private kindnesses. There were all the employees whose care he assured into old age. There was a gay tutor he supported…there were artists Barnes patronized while doubting their art and musicians whose training and travels he subsidized.”
He was close friends with famous people such as John Dewey, Bertrand Russell, Leo Stein, and fought with or humiliated all of them. In addition to researching the Ashcan artists and the visiting his museum, I have so many questions to follow up on: What does it mean to be a collector of art? Who decides what’s collectable? What is art? What is art appreciation? How can this man be so offensive and boorish if he loves art?

[Nancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

During our time in Philadelphia I had heard of the Barnes Museum but we never visited it because of the need to make reservations. And, it was easier to hop on public transportation to get the Philadelphia Museum of Art. But I was interested to learn about Barnes and his collection.

What a character Barnes was! Progressive and anti-racist, a man who treated his employees more than fairly. He hired a gay man to tutor him. He was also vengeful and vindictive, sensitive, and mercurial in his friendships.

Barnes childhood led him to identify with the downtrodden. His own rise and achievements, becoming a doctor and entrepreneur, manufacturing a remarkable drug to prevent blindness in babies, made him imperious and certain that all men and women could improve themselves and their lives.

In 1872, Barnes was born in Fishtown where rowhouses were filled with textile factory workers. The family later relocated to a rough South Philly neighborhood prone to flooding. He gained admission to the exclusive Central High School, an early public high school with a progressive mandate that conferred bachelor’s degrees.

His Methodist mother took him to rural camp meetings where he discovered “the realm of mysticism” that he believed lead him to a love of art. The African Americans’ hymn singing gave him a deep respect for Black culture, although still maintaining stereotyping he never “managed to shed.”

With wealth, Barnes became obsessed with buying cutting-edge art. His philosophy of art was inspired by his friend, John Dewey and his theory of education based on experience.

Barnes was drawn to art by the Ashcan school and Picasso, but particularly liked Renoir and Cezanne. He branched to collect African masks and even farm implements and tools. Although he spoke about the ‘plastic’ in art, he did show a favor for female nudes.

Barnes gave his workers six hour work days and provided educational classes. He believed in bringing art to the ordinary man on the street. When he built the Barnes Institute to house his collection, he wanted to keep out the elite intellectuals and limited who could gain entry.

The biography kept my interest. I admired Barnes and I found him appalling, but always interesting. I appreciated the illustrations of the art work talked about in the book. I thoroughly enjoyed this read.

Thanks to the publisher for a free book through NetGalley.

[Andrew · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you Ecco/ Harper Collins for the review copy.

This is the story of a man born poor after the Civil War, who lived in the poorest section of Philadelphia and through sheer arrogance, hard work and determination made a success of himself by inventing and patenting eye drops used by physicians to this day. His antiseptic treatment made him a millionaire by 40 and he spent the rest of his life not in the acquisition of money, but in the collection of art.

The depiction of Albert Barnes is unappealing, and the fault lies in the subject not the author. Barnes was a street fighter, he had to win, and he subjected friends and foes alike to the most heinous insults and personal attacks. The book recounts his weird personality which sought friendship with the loftiest thinkers, artists and philosophers of his time, chiefly John Dewey, the father of American pragmatism, but also with Bertrand Russell and scores of early 20th century French artists like Matisse.

With his fortune he bought thousands of paintings back to Pennsylvania and built a museum in 1925. But he refused admission to the public, even with his tax exempt status, and he instead created a kind of kind of pretentious, boring, didactic cult of lectures, text books, teaching materials doled out to selected, curated students and compliant teachers who had to perform in front of Barnes or be expelled. Many were thrown out, lured in by money, then ejected in malice.

It's a tiring, frustrating, exasperating story of a weirdo with power and money who used his wealth to belittle and manipulate people. (Sound familiar?). Despite his lack of empathy and manners, he somehow considered himself sympathetic to black people and often financed education and art for the downtrodden race.

The book also contains Barnes' anti-Semitic rants, but wouldn't you know it, by 1940 he was anti-nazi and helping eminent Jews resettle in the US as they were being slaughtered by the German army.

The legacy of Barnes is his magnificent collection of art, the large collection of French paintings and his early purchases of avant-garde American modernists and folk art.

But his often odious and antisocial life is not something you want to crawl under the covers with. He was equal parts virtuous and vindictive and without his art collection he'd be just about the least appealing man you could know. If you enjoy interacting intimately with him by all means read this book.

[Rick Elinson · Rating 4 out of 5]

I knew there was controversy about the Barnes Museum and its reconstructed version, but I had no idea how much was due to Albert Barnes himself. Gopnik's acount is that Barnes was a brilliant, self-centered bully. Barnes made a fortune with the drug Argyrol and used the money to amass a fabulous collection of early twentieth century art, most notably by Renoir, Matisse, Cezanne, and Soutine. His abrasive personality meant that he could only work for a few years with business partners or art dealers, before their relationship fell apart acrimoniously. He had disdain for rich collectors of old masters and for the elite academics who analyzed and praised that old art. Not only did he build his modern collection, but he constantly pushed his philosophy on how art should be looked at and valued.

Almost all of his long term relations were with women- his wife, three relatively uneducated women who had started by working in Barnes's factory, and a later follower. All of these women played significant roles in maintaining the collection, managing the museum, and educating people on Barnes's philosophy of art. Gopnik calls this "patriarchal feminism", but it is closer to "patriarchal sexism". In that era, Barnes could give women whatever authority that he chose, with no fear that they would supercede him. His dealings with Blacks are characterized as "tyrannical egalitarianism". Again, he gave good jobs to Blacks in his factory and recognized Black achievements contrary to the prevailing treatment and views of Blacks, but his position as a member of a dominant class was unchallengable.

Barnes's only long-term relationship was with the philosopher Thomas Dewey. Perhaps they could co-exist because they operated in separate spheres, art vs philosophy. Barnes also played an important role for the philosopher Bertrand Russell, but could not deal with Russell's wife.

The question that is left is whether any of Barnes's philosophy of art had any influence on current thinking or whether he has remained a curious oddity. Is his book "The Art in Painting" cited or read today? Was it ever? He also wrote books on Renoir and Matisse. Did they have any impact and are they ever considered today? An analytical chapter on Barnes's impact would have been useful.

[Dan · Rating 2 out of 5]

If I hadn't been to the Barnes Foundation art collection in Philadelphia this year, I wouldn't have stayed with this book to the end. The collection of hundreds of works of art was a pleasure to view for many hours, and the lecture (which Barnes wouldn't have even wanted to happen) was worthwhile on getting more out of viewing art. But this backstory of the man behind it, Albert Barnes, was pretty distasteful.

The man who had started life in the poorest part of town, made a fortune with an important medical breakthrough and shrewdly acquired 181 Renoirs, 69 Cézannes, 59 Matisses, 46 Picassos. He was also a bully, an antisemite, a patronizer of Black people who deigned to treat them as equals, because he was quite sure they were not (as philosopher Bertrand Russell put it), and overall a man who insisted he knew what was best for everyone else and would pull the rug out from under them as soon as they displeased him.

Barnes was almost unique among the world's great collectors. Where they had mostly claimed fame as superlative shoppers, Barnes aimed to be as well known for thinking about his treasures as for owning them — and for sharing that thinking with others. How many amassers of glorious objects have published thousands of pages about them?

But the long passages of Barnes' writings about the artworks were pretty boring to get through. He didn't really want the public to come in to view the works and make noise in any kind of numbers. He didn't want lectures, guided tours, or even explanations on the wall, but as a non-profit organization, some education became required. 

If you like reading about an unlikeable curmudgeon who, almost against his will, left a great collection of beauty, you may enjoy this. And I admit, I couldn't help being curious after seeing that great collection. So I'm glad I read the book, but didn't enjoy it. Does that make sense?

[Louise · Rating 4 out of 5]

Blake Gopnik presents Albert Barnes in all his improbability. Through the events of his life, Gopnik shows how his impoverished childhood shaped his liberal outlook and his caustic personality.

The chapters are topical. They begin with his childhood, education, how he developed the drug on which he built his wealth. They progress through his interest in art and how he began collecting: the trips, the agents, the artists. The later chapters focus on his relationships with artists, agents and institutions.

The things that stand out are his volatile personality, his commitment to the advancement for Blacks, and his passion for art.

Through his outbursts, Barnes made his life, and that of others, difficult. The book is full of anecdotes him unleashing torrents of insults, verbally and in writing. His relationships lasted months or years, and most ended in insulting words. He was close to his high school friend, the artist William Glackens, for many years but a rift eventually ended it. He befriended and promoted Bertrand Russell, but a rift with “Lady” Russell ended this in months. His friendship with John Dewey is the only one didn't end with an with an explosion of insults, and lasted until Dewey's death.

Barnes’s commitment to civil rights was lifelong and way ahead of his time. He staffed his factory (producing the drug he developed) with Blacks whom he paid well above he industry average. He provided medical care, scholarships and general promotion for staff and others he met and contributed to churches and civil rights issues.

He was not a passive collector of objects. He wrote academic papers on formalism (the theory that art should be judged by color, shape, texture, brush strokes, etc. and not content) and on individual artists. He held classes that promoted his views. The many relationships he had with artists and dealers show not just his commitment, but also, the negative aspects of his explosive personality.

The book has a lot of photos of the collection. and Gopnik points out the qualities that Barnes saw in the aintings and objects. I liked the duplication of the B & W that is well placed in the text with a color plate in the "color plates" section.. This way you don’t have to flip until the author’s full point is made.

There is a good index. I didn’t use the notes. There is no bibliography which disappointed me because I’d have liked to see a list of all Barnes’s publications.

Not much exists on Barnes and this is a good initial survey. If you are interested, this is a must read. If you are patient, you might wait for another more comprehensive volume that will most likely surface in the coming years.

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve known about the Barnes Foundation and its phenomenal art collection for much of my life, but I knew almost nothing about its founding father other than that he was “a bit eccentric.” After finishing this book, I realized what an understatement that was! Albert Barnes was an absolutely fascinating person. Eccentric, yes, but also intelligent, inquisitive, progressive (relatively speaking), and generous (provided you didn’t get on his bad side).
I thoroughly enjoyed the anecdotes and examples from primary sources, especially excerpts from many of the sarcastic letters he wrote. From his underprivileged upbringing and academic achievements to his success in business and then notoriety as an art collector, he is a classic example of the nineteenth and twentieth century “American dream.”
I did find that this book contained a bit more philosophy than I was expecting, which was very relevant to the narrative, but a bit tedious for me personally. Those dry parts made this more of a 3.5 star read for me, but I rounded up because the interesting parts were very engaging. I’m looking forward to capping off my exploration of Albert Barnes with a visit to the foundation’s museum in Philadelphia.

[Shawn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Barnes is a Wacky, Interesting Story

I'm glad to have read this biography, before I go to see the Barnes collection. I live quite near to all the locations mentioned in the book, that is, near Philadelphia, so I will be able to attend this museum this very year!
Barnes' story is a very strange one, to me. He seemed to want to side with the underdog; yet at the same time, he was so opinionated that he could never share his paintings/Foundation/Endowment upon his death with any University. To him, they were all "doing it wrong." That is, not looking at Art in the same OCD Way that he did, which he proclaimed was the only way to look at Art. He came down on the side of ratiocination rather than any other, vague feelings, or any other formal methodology that did not hew to his way, the only way.
There is plenty more to say about the Barnes fellow, born into poverty in Philly, growing into a millionaire via his college degree and working his way into a Big Pharma sell off of his cure for gonorrhea that was profitable even in the great depression of the 1930s. Read it yourself and see what you think!

[Micebyliz]

Quite a story about this collector. i wonder if he was bipolar in some way from the descriptions of him in this book.
I am not sure that all of the intimate and personal information needed to be repeated. What was that for? titillation? I found it disgusting and unnecessary.
I am surprised that someone of his nature was able to find people who would be loyal to him for so many years and even after his death. Must have been the money. He threatened and bullied and mistreated people (sound familiar?) and expected everything to be the way he wanted.
He may have amassed a great collection, but hardly anyone was able to see it. A curmudgeon of curmudgeons. A racist, misogynist, antisemite, you name it. Transactional, to be blunt.
The book is quiet about his marriage, which i found interesting. Why? no children, some mention of possible affairs, a long-suffering wife? was he gay? confused? had he been abused as a child perhaps? These are important things to know if we are to understand this horrible man.

[Susan Tryforos · Rating 3 out of 5]

I spent many weekends at the Barnes Foundation while it was in the Merion house, so I picked up this book with interest. Gopnik lost me for a while in the middle of the book with the Barnes Method of art pedagogy that just went on for too long (I put the book down for about a month because of it) but the portrait that emerged of Albert Barnes himself was thorough. He was a crotchety grumpy old man from the start - his way was the only way - and although I laughed at many of his nasty letters I would not have liked to have met him. I wish that Gopnik had delved into Albert and Laura's relationship a bit more - she was not fleshed out at all and I wonder how she was able to put up with Albert's personality for so many years (maybe they lived very separate lives, she with her arboretum and he with his art). So, all in all, after skimming through the middle of the book a bit, I didn't hate the book but didn't love it either.

[Stephen · Rating 2 out of 5]

Barnes isn't all that likable, but this is an enjoyable biography of one of Philadelphia's characters, and the creator of my top 2 favorite museums that I've ever visited.

I don't really follow detailed critiques of art, so Barnes's growth as an art critic was uninteresting to me, but Gopnik did a good job bringing Barnes to life, in both his progressive views, as well as his decidedly thorny racist ones.

I'm glad that Gopnik skipped the drama about the movement of his museum into the city--that was a long overdue move and has made his works much more accessible to people, which is what he wanted. Leaving his collection of masterworks out on City Line Avenue cordoned off the art from visitors, especially those of lesser means.

If you're interested in Barnes, this is the book for you.

[Azure · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is a fairly enjoyable read. It covers the life of Barnes, his raising from a slum to one of the most prominent collectors of modern art. His life has been intertwined with a life-long formulation of his theory on aesthetic education. He picked up friendships and quickly falls out from them, it seems to be a pattern. He initiated many progressive projects but always seems to find fault on the other side. It is almost easy to criticize him of being insincere and hypocritical, but you can still see from the pages a man with passion and energy that is unparalleled by friends and foes.

I haven’t had the chance to visit the Barnes museum, but cannot wait to see it after reading the book. To the great or even ‘not so great’ arts, a collector’s life is transitory, but Barnes is definitely trying to express himself through his purchases choices however arbitrary.

[Roberta Westwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quite good

Unfortunately, I was a bit distracted at the time I listened to this audiobook, so it might deserve more credit than I am giving it. Perhaps if I was paying attention, I would have given it more stars. This is usually stuff I love, and I am fascinated by how art works are initially bought, and how they eventually make it into museums. One of the more interesting parts of this book were when he would adorn normally drab office spaces with great art works, and would make it possible for his employees to purchase them.
Maybe I will listen again…

[Timothy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I blushingly admit that I knew nothing about Albert Barnes and only an iota about the Barnes Foundation so this book was an eye opener! It is written with verve and gusto and brings the crusty, nasty, bellicose, and oddly charming subject to life. Barnes was a good friend to John Dewey, inspired Bertrand Russel’s greatest book, and gathered together a significant collection of modern art (which I look forward to hosting next time I’m in Philadelphia). If you like biographies, add this one to your list; and then read Robert Westbrook intellectual biography of John Dewey!

[Laurel Caston · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I was teaching art history, I loved sharing the documentary The Art of the Steal with my students when we studied 20th century art. I knew little about the man who collected and created The Barnes Collection outside of that film.

I enjoyed reading this book in so much as I learned more about Barnes’s philosophy on art and education, but this might not have been the right time to read a book about a rich white man in the early 20th century, and all the associated attitudes and behaviors with that time and place.

[SusaninPA · Rating 2 out of 5]

Shallow content, repetitive. Discusses Barnes’ connections with artists and buyers who play a role in his collections. Discusses Barnes’ progressive attitude toward African Americans although like everything else Barnes is ultimately disappointed in the Black scholars he involved in the foundation. This book was so short on content that it prompted me to order another bio about Barnes which I look forward to reading. Hopefully it will help fill gaps left by this book. Would not recommend.

[Lisa · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book offered a thorough inspection of a highly complex person. As generous and thoughtful as he could be, Barnes was an irascible, bigoted and ruthless contrarian. I have enjoyed the collection and followed the controversial relocation and selling objects but I never thought much of the collector himself until now.

[Elizabeth Dawson · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting read but now I feel like I know too much about Barnes. Very informative and all encompassing but I feel like I’ve opened a can of worms that I can’t close. Maybe that’s just me. I got kinda bored at the end, but that’s probably just my attention span. Interesting read for sure.

[Tom DeThomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Informative

I had heard of the Barnes Collection and every time the cognoscenti would with a wink and nod indicate that there was something about the collection or perhaps, the collector, that the rest of us didn’t know. This book was revelatory to me. Now I know. Those interested in art and history will enjoy this.

[Stuart Miller · Rating 4 out of 5]

A well-written and entertaining biography of the irascible Dr. Barnes who was truly one of a kind and left a truly magnificent art collection for our benefit--albeit not without public feuds, vitriolic denunciations (some of which are hilarious), and dogmatic pronouncements. Anyone interested in the art "scene" of the 1890s-1950s in the U.S. will want to read this enthralling story.