MorningBird

Rocky Who?

I watched an NFL football game last night. It was played in Philadelphia and it was broadcast on national TV, but the game was incidental; the star of the show was Rocky. Sylvester Stallone was all over the place; on the sidelines before the game and in the broadcast booth during the game, and everyone within shouting distance wanted their "Yo" moment. They love Rocky in South Philly.

Rocky is a big deal in Philadelphia--except in that rarified world of locked jaws and hyphenated names that rule the city's arts community. The Philadelphia art mavens view Rocky's statue like a boil, and years ago they banned it from the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum where it attracted more interest than the exhibits inside the museum. A museum which over the years has been forced to close its doors on certain days for lack of funds to pay the poor security guards.

Rocky was shuttled off to the sports complex in South Philly, and the art mavens thought, that was that. But the public clamored for Rocky's return and after much pressure and wringing of silk hankies, he was allowed to return to the Art Museum area, but not to his old home atop the steps. Rocky was planted on the side of the building, discreetly away from the main entrance, and presumably away from the windows of the curator and her smug accomplices inside that blue-blooded palace of privilege.

Never-the-less as ESPN reminded us last night, you can't keep a good man down--even on the Main Line.

Sylvester Stallone is as far removed from Philadelphia's snooty art denizens as Albert Barnes was in his time. Dr. Barnes despised the exclusive, condescending ways of Philadelphia's coupon-clipping arts crowd and he was careful to remain apart from that world even as he prepared to enter the next world. Dr. Barnes left very careful instructions in his will about what to do and what not to do with his incomparably valuable collection and he left an estate to finance that gift.

Of course you know the rest of the story. At the same time as the Philadelphia arts community was banning Rocky from the steps of the Art Museum, apparently they were planning to hijack the Barnes Foundation. And they did! Now they are building a new palace across the street from the Art Museum to house the Barnes Collection.

May the shadow of Rocky darken its doors.

GOODBYE MRS. ROBINSON

I have never known a religious Jew, but I knew a Jewish girl that could take you to heaven with a kiss. Her name was Nikki Polychron and she operated in a high school social set apart from mine. She was beautiful and I was afraid of her, but I got up the nerve to approach her at the Senior Prom. I have never forgotten that kiss.

Jewish women are a mystery to me. On the one hand, they have a reputation for being domineering and whiny. On the other hand, for me anyway, they ooze sexuality. I picture all Jewish women with thick, long, black hair and a ribald sense of humor—like Mrs. Robinson.

I always thought Anne Bancroft played herself in "The Graduate"—strong, sassy, sexy and funny. Who else could spend a lifetime with Mel Brooks?

THE GATES

I went to see The Gates yesterday with Annice and Sharon. It was a crisp hat-and-gloves day with almost no breeze and the bright blue sky was dotted with high-riding clouds. You needed shades. We walked all the way from our Murray Hill Hotel at 39th & Lexington to Central Park, window-shopping the last few blocks on Fifth Avenue, before we entered the park at 59th street.

The park was mobbed, but it was a laid back crowd, almost serene. People were smiling, talking in normal tones, and strolling about at a leisurely pace. Cameras were everywhere and I noticed how considerate strangers were for the amateur photographer's sight lines and their fumbling attempts to master digital controls. Everyone was patient; no pushing or shoving and no shouting, in fact I didn’t see an unpleasant incident all day.

I had seen photos of Christo’s orange-draped gates in the newspapers and on TV, but still, you don’t know what to expect until you meet something like that. It was not a “Wow” effect for me, but more like being immersed in something. It simply enveloped me. It felt good.

Other people seemed to be in the same state. They were not oohing and aahing, but just strolling along, arm in arm, others with leashes in arm (I saw some splendid dogs, all well behaved as only NYC dogs can be in crowds of strangers). Other viewers were walking alone enjoying the moment in solitude.

We meandered back and forth from Eastside to Westside as we worked our way north to the Belvedere Castle. The castle may be the highest elevation in Central Park, certainly the highest vantage point we found that day, and we got some spectacular photos of The Gates with the Manhattan Skyline in the background.

The sun was sinking as we left the castle and we headed for Columbus Avenue and warm refreshments. As we left the park and strolled past the Museum of Natural history, it hit me. This day reminded me of July 4th, 1976 when America celebrated 200 years of independence. I was living in the city then, and I remember the calm that descended on New York that day. The mood of the city changed overnight from hard-edged to mellow. It was dramatic and I never forgot it.

Much has happened in the last 28 years and New York City, though still the hubbub capital of the world is not as harsh as it was in 1976. I suppose a 9/11 will do that to you. Still the city hums with an edgy energy and it was noticeable when it paused to relax for The Gates yesterday. Maybe great events bring out the best in great cities.

Pirates at the Barnes Door

Albert Barnes had a life long passion for art and horticulture and he amassed and arranged an incomparable collection inside the gallery and outside in the gardens surrounding his residence in Merion, PA. Art for him was not about cocktail parties and world tours; it was about art. He knew what he liked and he went out and got it. He was a buyer, a collector, and a financier, investing his own funds to build a collection unrivalled in its quality and diversity, including much African art. (I believe his association with Lincoln University dates back to the 1920's.)

Now, the trustees of The Barnes Foundation want to leave Merion. Because they are broke. They have operated from Dr. Barnes's Merion residence for 80 years and in 1993, they conducted a whirlwind, round-the-globe fund-raising tour that reportedly raised millions. And now they are broke.

According to media reports, the new home for The Barnes Foundation has already been selected, somewhere on the parkway-a fait accompli-and the Philadelphia arts community and the tourism board are gleefully sorting through options for its new location. Is this the same generous arts community that, for lack of funds, can't keep the Philadelphia Arts Museum open 7 days a week? We should not forget that Dr. Barnes had another passion; his visceral contempt for the Philadelphia arts community.

I don't propose to have a solution to the financial travails of the Barnes Foundation, but I would caution them not to forget their fiduciary responsibility, so aptly described on their web site.

December 4, 1922. "The Barnes Foundation is charted to promote the advancement of education and the appreciation of the fine arts."

Do you read anything about tourism in that statement?

Education…I do not pretend to know what Dr. Barnes' special interest in Lincoln University was about, but they obviously had more than a casual relationship. Why else would he give Lincoln University the power to appoint 80% of the Barnes Foundation Trustees? We do know that he had distaste for inherited privilege, and he had a special affinity for the rights of African Americans and an interest in African Art.

The Philadelphia arts and tourism crowd is determined to break Dr. Barnes's will, and they have powerful political and financial allies, consequently they may achieve their goal. But, we should not forget their stated reason for the move-money.

Any tampering with the foundation or it's home will violate Dr. Barnes's will-which is very specific about his desire for the art and the gallery to remain in Merion-and so, if the art mavens of Philadelphia, must break the will, why not bust it wide open? Let's not tippy-toe into this. If this is only about money, why should this incredible resource be handed over to Philadelphia by default?

Do you have any idea what the Barnes Collection would bring if sold piecemeal on the open market? Or, what financial and artistic commitments other communities would make to get their hands on the entire collection? New York…Washington…Los Angeles…Paris? Show me the money!

Selling to the highest bidder would leave the foundation with a generous, perhaps mind-boggling endowment which could be used to fulfill Dr. Barnes's dream of bringing art appreciation to all of the people, not just the privileged few.

Michael Moore

I watched Michael Moore's performance at the Academy Awards last night. If he had any credibility outside the Hollywood set, he destroyed it. You can dress em up, but you can't take em out. Mr. Moore’s appearance reminded me of when he first achieved fame with “Roger & Me,” that vicious “documentary” on GM and its chairman, Roger Smith. It was received by many as a serious piece of journalism, but it could not have been more off target.

Roger Smith was cast, then and now, as the architect and symbol of GM's bumbling, fumbling efforts to combat the Japanese and other offshore automobile manufacturers. It is true that GM went through a dismal period, and maybe the company is not through it yet, but I remember thinking at the time that Roger Smith was one person who "got it".

How did he “get it?" Because he attempted to reach outside GM's stodgy, entrenched bureaucracy and bring new blood to the table. New blood consisted of new technology—EDS and Hughes Aerospace—and new people. I thought both technologies were a good fit for GM. At that time, GM was the largest company in the world, but hobbled to a hodge-podge of stodgy car labels (and fiefs), coupled to disparate computing systems that did not share crucial information. Surely, EDS brought order to that confusion. (Ross Perot was another matter.)

And anyone who is familiar with Onstar, GM's superb satellite based communications system, cannot deny that Hughes brought something to the table, although I suspect Onstar, a stunning marketing achievement, made a lesser contribution to technology than other less visible inventions. And you cannot deny Hughes' contribution to GM's financial health. At the time, GM decided to divest the Hughes satellite TV business, the division was worth more than the car business. (The divestiture is pending, because the FCC, led by its myopic chairman, Michael Powell rejected the sale—stay tuned.)

So, why did GM management decide to sell Hughes? Why not sell the car business instead? Because that is what they know. They build cars. Do not confuse them with facts—like shareholder equity.
Michael Moore thought (or pretended to think; after last night who can be sure) that Roger Smith was in a fog. Instead, Roger Smith saw through the fog. He was a visionary, and it has taken 15 years for his successors to put the blinders back on GM.

Once again, GM is comfortably selling cars, competing on price, and susceptible to the whims of the economy with rebates flying about like migratory butterflies. Meanwhile the assembly plant in Flint, Michigan that employed Michael Moore's relatives (maybe even Mr. Moore himself) is closed--forever. The $100,000 assembly line jobs are in Mexico (at a fraction of the cost). The car people pissed away the investments in EDS and Hughes, companies that could have provided well paid, on-shore jobs for displaced GM workers.

This will tell you something about Mr. Moore's logic. But what the hell, he has an Oscar.